


Momhun

by BunHun



Category: Monster Hunter (Video Games), Mother 1 | EarthBound Zero | EarthBound Beginnings, Mother 2: Gyiyg no Gyakushuu | EarthBound, Mother 3
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Am I implying eventual smut? Probably, And violence in general I guess, Animal Death, Boney is not a dog but he's a good boi, Comments are appreciated, English is not my native language ;-;, I FORGOT ABOUT THE AGED UP TAG AHHHHHHHHH, I will be explaining things in notes, Kinda ecologist themes, Kumatora and Lucas have a sibling-like bond, M/M, Nature is weird and so is this, Neither is Claus' thirst, Ninten is a tsundere and swears on daily basis, Ninten is not human, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, THEY ADULTS, The ladies are the voices of reason most of the time (except maybe Kumatora but she's supportive), They can drink and bang but not drive a car bcs there is no such thing, They're also kinda ecoterrorists, WARNINGS FOR ANIMAL VIOLENCE, no beta read because we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-01-31 16:50:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21449506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunHun/pseuds/BunHun
Summary: It wasn’t the first time world was close to end nor would it be the last, however, there had always been a hero to stop it.----Monster Hunter AU where Claus is alive but is lost and has no memories about his past, Ninten is grumpy 24/7 but has a dream, Lucas is trying his best (and is an ecoterrorist to some degree) and Ness can't turn down a quest.I’m pretty sure not so many people at EB/Mother fandom had played Monster Hunter, so I’ll be making notes at chapter’s endings just to clarify few details unless I deem them of no much importance or will explain them later on in the very fic, also will add a little extra info about certain monsters I mention only for better context and comprehension of the whole MH universe.Also: yes, title is a pun.
Relationships: A little Jeff/Tony, Claus (Mother 3)/Ninten (Mother 1), I neither know if counting Ninten/Ana, IDK if counting a Ness/Paula, Jeff Andonuts/Tony, Lucas (Mother 3)/Ness (Mother 2)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING FOR ANIMAL CRUELTY

He looked down from the top of what once was the world, hell rained upon earth as meteors and fire, volcanos erupted, soils trembled in fear of a nigh end, flesh burned until reducing to dust, and yet, despite the flames blazing with the Elder Dragon’s wrath, the thick layer of darkness prevailed to perpetuate the bloodshed. 

_ “This could had been different”_ — thought the young boy to himself — _“**This **was meant to be different!”. _

In middle of the world’s end, he reflected on what had brought the cataclysm. Was it but sheer bad luck? A price to pay for humanity’s sins against nature? Or had they been merely puppets dancing on a cruel game? Truthfully, he doubted the answer would ever be resolved; perchance, the closest he would ever get was to pondering where it all went wrong…

_…_

It wasn’t the first time world was close to end nor would it be the last, however, there had always been a hero to stop it. _What was the hero’s name?_ Would you ask, it varied from ages to ages, but not long ago, a hero named Ness shined on his bright Zinogre armour as he stood tall and proud after an arduous battle against the dreadful Crimson Fatalis, hammer at hand and teammates by his side: Jeff, a now renowned scientist for the hunter’s guild, Poo, a former prince from the mystic lands of Dalaam, and the beautiful Paula, a famous guild’s knight.

Though it was a story of now quite a time ago, it was still talked of, passing from mouth to mouth until reaching a little village that was thought but a myth corresponding to the name _Tazmily_ at the distant Nowhere Islands, and more precisely? To a couple of twin brothers: the oldest a redhead, Claus, and the youngest, a blond, Lucas.

The oldest child sighed heavily. “And to think there’s people with nothing but weapons out there, enjoying such dangerous adventures!”, he exclaimed, tossing a pebble across the lake to make it skip the longest distance he could achieve and kicking the water out of rage once the rock sank, it hadn’t been his best throw. 

“Are you… Concerned?”, asked his twin lifting an eyebrow in confusion.

“No! I’m jealous!”, he concluded springing up, lifting dirt at the sudden motion. “I mean, think ‘bout it! We have monsters _and _weapons! We could fight fire with fire!”.

“That… would be a terrible idea”.

“C’mon, bro! Where’s your wanderlust?”, he complained.

“No, no! Is not that. I meant water would be more effective in most cases. Look”, without previous warning, the blond splashed water at his eldest sibling.

“Hey! Not the hair!”, he laughed splashing his brother back.

Both twins played at their heart’s content, unaware tragedy was right around the corner, as one unfortunate night disaster struck the rider’s little village.

"Mom...", the youngest trembled, not for the cold water that had soaked him entirely, nor out of fear as the people around him, but because loss overwhelmed him.

No longer could the roars be heard at the distance, but on his head? Oh, it was an entirely different matter.

He could hear them, more strident than thunders, louder than crunching of bones; his heart and limbs trembled such as his mouth, unable to call for help, frozen still much as his eyes that lied on the gruesome scene while the river carried them: the lighting of the storm brightening the dark landscape enough to see haunting sharp metallic teeth with pieces of a loyal monstie’s flesh and pink cloth stuck amid, how the wet green scales of a flightless brute wyvern were tarnished by blood of both human and monsters as the a red tint trailed down its throat.

However, misery won’t end there. Night prevailed young, the afterhours that had only begun, and with them, so did a series of unfortunate incidents.

At such a tender age, the loss of a mother was one big hit to take in, impossible to put into words, but if they had to put it in an image, it would be — in essence — close to the disaster that soon followed.

The roaring of the very same pseudo mechanical monster that had took their mother’s life had returned to finish the job, thrashing everything there was on its path, so be it windmills or barns, farms or even the innocent inhabitant’s cosy homes, and despite the most experimented rider’s attempts, a majority of their village was reduced to nothing but crumbles and dust. Though even if the buildings fell apart, nothing could be worse than the loss of a mother.

Except there could be.

At these heights, an outburst from their father at the realization of what had happened to his wife wasn't even the worst of their problems. Definitely upsetting, but truly, both twins didn't blame him, they had their own conflicted emotions after all, nonetheless they approved not of it either.

By the end of the night, they lost not only their beloved mother, but their father as well to his own rage, and though it was only temporal since it won’t be long until he was allowed to leave the once never used jail, it was only an additional step on — both — the ladder of catastrophe and of misfortune, just as another part that brought the eventual outcome.

“Claus!”, called out the blond, barely being able to breathe.

The older twin turned, still looking confident on his decision with the homemade knife tight on hand.

“I want to go too!”, the youngest exclaimed.

“No”, he replied plain but firmly.

“Why?!”.

“I’m going alone”.

“W-why would you?”, his voice cracked slightly as the answer had been rather unexpected.

“Hunters can pick on the monsters alone, why shouldn't we?".

“Claus, we are not hunters! We're riders! We aren’t supposed to…” — he gulped, the words he wanted to use felt rather difficult to come out his throat.

“Murder?”, his twin completed the phrase.

“Mhm…”. Even the mere word was so foreign to hear, and it helped him not to hear it with his brother’s voice.

Once more, the oldest twin looked away. “Well…” — the other boy could hear the belts around his sibling’s arm coming off, loosening the bracelet that held the stone symbol of a Rider — “Maybe I don’t want to be a rider anymore”.

“Y-y-you can’t be serious!”.

“Do I look like I’m joking?”, he asked with a deadpan stare, holding at opposite hand the bracelet.

“T-take Boney with you at least…”, Lucas pleaded between tears.

For a moment, the redhead' seemed hesitant; perhaps the blonde had achieved to talk him out from such a reckless idea? but any hope for the possibility of him forfeiting the thought was lost when he turned away.

“I'm sorry”, said he barely above a whisper. “But I must grow stronger on my own”.

The youngest twin could get a glimpse of red at the otherwise blue gem and a little black on the shining silver metal, though it was not currently his major concern as his older brother walked away.

“Claus!”, Lucas yelled after his brother, he didn't even gaze back.

Neither did he return for their mother's funeral, raising questions the youngest twin didn't know if he had the courage to answer or see the implications of, and certainly, not ready when his father, Flint, left to look after him, finding nothing but a savage Deviljho and the redhead's shoe.

No soul from the little village ever saw him again; many said he only got tired of life in a withdrawn village and decided to leave to never come back, others, there being no corpse left whatsoever, said he had been eaten, though the father never gave up hope nor his search for his lost son, even if it meant leaving the remaining child all by his lonesome. As for the surviving twin... he was never able to stop questioning himself.

Had he would have told someone sooner, could it had been avoided? Could it had been any different? For the better, perchance?...

He knew no answer for these questions, but he was well aware they would forever haunt him for the rest of his days, as even after years came and went, he continued to ask himself the same inquiries as ever.

It had been years since then and yet they disturbed his sleep, making him wake up late at night, cold sweat trailing down his temples and chills up his spine, and every time, he would look around in hopes for it all had been but a bad dream, only to find himself all alone once more. By itself, his reality had become truly a nightmare.

Albeit, the blond was not the only one for whom life had turned harsh or even close to a living hell, as you see, even with apparently no elder dragon terrorizing countries, continents, or the whole world, there were other threats to humankind.

“Ah, what a world we live in”, sighed the brunette guild’s receptionist clad in green as he took seat across his beloved at a canteen’s table.

“How so?”, he asked, fixing his glasses back to place with a single finger. Being a guild’s scientist, he rarely ever got to be outside the laboratory, thus, he was usually outdated with news.

“There are recent reports of people going into the woods to never comeback; hunters, merchants… It doesn’t matter, all that has been found at best are so brutally mutilated corpses that it’s hard to conceive what monster could have done such atrocity”, informed the sole girl from the group, taking a sip from her hot cocoa little afterwards her breathe manifested as a puff as it crashed against the cold weather of Winters.

The guild might be a governing body across various lands, the contact it held from one place to another left much to ask for, not to mention such information would rarely be given in attempts to avoid panic from spreading.

“I hope Ness hadn’t gotten in such trouble…”, Paula added, snuggling into her fluffy pink coat made of Paolumu fur.

“His reputation as hunter precedes him”, commented their regal friend, a now king that ruled over distant lands so close to the sky alike to the wyverian city of Cathar. “Even if such was to be the case, he is a very capable hunter, he would never go down without a fight”.

“Ness has a tendency to help those in need without a second thought, it would be logical to assume maybe he took a last-minute quest”, Jeff concluded.

Almost as soon the blond was done talking, the door was suddenly slammed open, roaring rapid winds such as snowflakes invaded the canteen.

“Sorry, I’m late!”, exclaimed the long-awaited hunter once he was able to shut the door.

“Ness!”, his friend group called out unison, the sole mention of a so renowned name shifting the attention from everyone at the canteen to the newcomer.

The raven-haired boy shook the snow off from his armour and hair, then, took seat at the table among his friends, pass the chattering canteen’s customers that most likely had switched from any subject they had previously been talking about to the famous hunter.

“It isn’t like you to be late”, Paula said, though what she really meant was that she had been worried over him.

“Last minute quest?”, Tony asked to ascertain his partner’s hypothesis.

“A Tigrex”, Ness confirmed. Quietly, Jeff’s voice could be heard saying “Called it”.

“Just one?”, the brunette asked again, finding it odd for a single wyvern to have given so much trouble to delay this much someone like Ness.

“Yes, though there was something different about this one…”.

“A deviant, perchance?”, asked Poo, his eyes sharpening.

“Beyond that”.

“Please continue”.

“Okay!”, he said eagerly clapping his hands and trying to get comfortable. “I thought it would be like any common urgent quest, but then did I realize it had metal parts”.

“Metal?”, asked the others collectively, including persons who were not even at the table.

“Yeah. Regardless the tigrex was down rather quick, but this is where it gets even stranger. When I took the carving knife…”, he paused briefly. “Its neck cracked, then some sort of… black energy enveloped it. Whatever it was, it made him come back to life”, he rubbed the back of his head. “Geez, it packed quite punch. It seemed more aggressive than usual”.

Silence fell over the whole canteen, the group of friends looked one another. Could it be related in any way with the apparent murders?

They were not wrong, but neither where they totally right, as what had truly happened was somewhat different. Yes, a monster was behind it, but the real question was… _what kind of monster?_

Elsewhere, an alarm resonated everywhere within a volcanic facility's chambers; red lights turned strobe when the system began failing, freeing the monsters enclosed and deadly toxins used in experiments, and if it couldn't get any worse, screams were heard along the halls such as the mechanical roars of rampaging creatures.

But even the bloodshed mattered not for the one behind these cruel experiments, he was safe on his chambers even if the world was to end. Sadly, not the same could be said about his personnel, they had to do what they were being paid for even if it meant the life of one or two… _hundreds_.

“Sir!”, reported a pigmask. “The experiment went awfully wrong! The test subjects they-...!”, the trooper was dragged out before being able to finish a simple rushed report, screams and the sound of bone crushing filled the room just as the many others.

So _these _monstrosities had escaped...

It wasn’t the first time a monster, or two, (or even a dozen) escaped, it will neither be the last, and it was not that the security was bad, it was alright, after all, his pretty shiny toys had to be put to proof before he could make any use of them; however, what made the difference is that only this time had it been unintended.

Somewhere on the installations, past piles of emotionless bodies and red halls, a creature no longer human discarded the guards holding it back. Despite the numerous bullets taken into its chest and limbs, slashes done across or even stabs that left quite nasty gaps, it continued on a murder spree drove by nothing but the thirst for blood, and to the soldier’s misfortune, there was not enough of the life liquid that could satisfy its need, as you see, this was not a usual crave for man nor even monster, it had been infused with a substance so perilous that not even the very dragon responsible for its creation could easily withstand it; it was only desirable to even begin to imagine what kind of damage could it do on a vulnerable being as a young man, though, the mastermind must admit he had truly created an unrelenting abomination.

Those that got on the monster’s way were cut in two, got their heads severed, limbs torn apart, completely pierced through or even taken out with only a zap of the electric elemental sword, its very own intense bleeding could not stop it and neither could the troops; it was only a question of time before it, along its semi mechanical fellow hell spawns made their way out the facility.

What an ungrateful toy, truly an abomination. After all the hard work they had done into substituting his missing eye and limbs? To keep his blood streaming through his veins even without a heart? And all the pretty accessories they have gave it? How insulting!

Usually, master Porky wouldn’t even care for such, nevertheless, it would be a shame to let all that hard work to go to waste, not to mention this particular toy had a capability no other plaything of his had: with a simple bracelet, it could control monsters at will, and compared to his mechanizations, it was much cheaper and more efficient; not to mention that according to the experimentation, not even elder dragons were exception to it nor to the black miasma that would envelope them soon after hatching that gave a heavy boost to the creature’s abilities, either given by birth or by mixing their genes. 

Surely, he would pursuit his creation down, it was not like it could truly run away from him, but the puppeteer wanted to see where all of this could go as _“a little”_ chaos and murder was guaranteed. Besides, a hunt won’t do no damage (less once the toy’s blood had been drained and it tried to hold into life much as when it was first found), it would only prove further how he was way superior to that pesky rascal Ness along his so called friends the more dangerous the monster turned.

In order to become stronger — and to survive — it must keep on with the slaughter, otherwise would the virus eventually kill him. Though would living be truly any better? Whatever the case, the abomination could not think on its own to know the meaning behind these life questions, but regardless, he was soon to find out.

No soul was to be found anymore, no monster, nor human, not even the own; only corpses of soldiers that had followed him and of those unlucky enough to have crossed paths were left, his body — if it could still be counted as his — turned against him.

What remained of his limbs trembled as his temperature dropped, only the yet hot blood flooding his armour to keep him warm. Lacking strength to move, the little monster collapsed into the floor, wasting the last of his energy into his agitated breathing. Life escaped him such as the red body fluid from his wounds, he wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer anymore.

He gave what felt like his last breathes, a blurred vision soon turning black as he closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to these little segments I shall call: Bun's hunter notes!
> 
> So this chapter’s Monsters I mentioned, and will be making notes of, are… DEVILJHO (aka. “Violent wyvern”, aka. “World eater”, aka. “Evil pickle”, aka…. It has many nicknames, okay?) and TIGREX, aka. “Roaring wyvern”!
> 
> Deviljho: https://d1fs8ljxwyzba6.cloudfront.net/assets/editorial/2017/12/deviljho.jpg  
Type: Brute wyvern (Bulky, stronk, guys. Flightless. Theropods. As name implies: they’re the brute force).  
Evil Jho’ are basically… the love children of a t-rex and a pickle. Sounds funny, but believe me: these guys are no joke. With an everlasting hunger, these monsters eat everything on their path, even their own tails. They’re characterized by their dark green hide, spikes, and giant bone-crushing maws!  
They may shot long-range attacks charged with what they have eaten, y’know, kinda like Komodo Dragons with their bacteria-filled bites!
> 
> Tigrex: https://monsterhunterworld.wiki.fextralife.com/file/Monster-Hunter-World/tigrex-render-large-monster-monster-hunter-world-wiki-guide-1920px.png?v=1559707606284  
Type: Flying Wyvern (big bois with their front legs/arms(?) are attached to membranes, making them into wings, they’re mostly bipedal).  
Tigrex is one o the few quadrupedal flying wyverns, between Tigrex’s characterises are its powerful jaws, limbs, its yellow (kinda orange) coloration with blue stripes and its damaging roar.  
Tigrex is like a steam roller: insane quick, huge hit-box, and if you mess with him you’re likely to end in the hospital.  
Today’s Tigrex mention has been a reference to Monster Hunter 4 Ultimate quest: “Tigrex Terror”, where, as I stated here, after a while Tigrex will be “K.O.” but right away “comeback to life” after kinda creepy music plays.  
About jobs:  
Guild receptionist – their job is to handle quests to the hunters, informing them too about the monsters around the area and within their rank. Most receptionists are females, but legends say males can be too if they’re fit for the job.  
Guild Knight – these dudes are kinda like the police, their main job is to protect the public and order. Guild Knight’s job implies too to seek and (often) destroy (in other words: murder). They hunt for poachers, wanted murderers, and even deal with negotiations. Few Guild Knights can be disguised under other jobs, like guild receptionist for example. 
> 
> This is all for the chapter. Thanks for clicking <3


	2. The two riders left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What says better "bonding" than ecoterrorism?

“Look at that, kid”, said the pink haired rider as she handed a pair of binoculars to her younger friend.

The blond silently took the field glasses to take a glimpse at what was going on.

Many things had happened since their quiet village was attacked by a Deviljho, but not all were necessarily bad. Of course, he became rather reclusive, most townsfolks made fun of him and his father — the only family member he had left aside his grandparent — was never home, but at least he had met Kumatora.

Like him, she was a rider as well, living at the ruins of Osohe Castle, a place which it was rumoured to host the egg of the legendary white dragon, Versa Pietru, “the embodiment of hope”. Lucas didn’t believe in the tale that much — especially after _what happened _— but he was later proved (partially) mistaken.

Yes, there was an egg as shiny as the morning sun that inspired the sensation of a bright new tomorrow to those whom saw it, but truly, they would never know if the vessel of hope was to hatch from it, as little after his mother’s death, a group of men came looking for it. Luckily, there was Kumatora and Duster to save it. Or something of the sorts, as later it was lost along their friend.

Kumatora had taken a part-time job as guild receptionist at a close-by canteen under the alias of Violet to attempt to learn any hint that lead them back on track to them, but thus far it all had been but fruitless efforts. So was life, Lucas guessed; although, that his life hadn’t been what he would have wanted didn’t mean the others had to suffer.

“They’re back”, he said quietly as if they would really be that easy to spot hidden among the long grass and matts of plants, miles away from the soldier’s pseudo base.

“These bastards”, she hissed. “Haven’t they caused enough problems already?!”.

The boy gave her the binoculars back, saying nothing. He didn’t know what the deal with these people was capturing wild monsters, he just knew two things: one, they were certainly not part from the guild, as these were not grounds under its jurisdiction. And two, when the monsters came back — if they ever did — they were themselves no longer.

Kumatora put the lenses away. “Anyways, kid. What’s the plan?”.

Lucas explained throughout it, drawing a graphical explication on the dirt with a stick he had found lying around.

Kumatora wasn’t quite the kind to take things cautiously, mostly always will she go into battle headfirst, backed by her strong monsters and spells she had learned from her caretakers. Lucas, however, was about the opposite; he would rather have a plan and play safe, but don’t let that fool you, as truly Kumatora was more than capable of making plans her own, after all, she was whom began this non-profitable job after she saved a Kecha Wacha named Salsa from a man’s mistreat.

Thanks to that they have met, it had happened quite a while ago, but both remembered vividly. She saw herself in a pinch after saving the monster, not her fault at all, these troublemakers had proven to be rather than only nuisances, actual threats; but Lucas arrived just in time to give a little helping hand along two Deviljhos.

Once he was done telling the idea he had come out with, both riders drew closer to a cluster of cages, monsters trapped inside, clawing, growling and roaring in attempts to get out but nothing was of use. If they turned too bothersome, would sleep bombs be thrown at them to put them to rest, at least, Lucas was grateful it didn’t escalate to anything worse… _yet_. 

The blond gave a signal to his friend, to which she answered with a knowing grin and confident nod. It was finally time for what Kumatora had long awaited: to punch these bastards right on the face!

The unsuspecting pigmask were revising the cages, perhaps for any damage that could potentially snap them open? Little they knew it would happen regardless.

“What the-…?!”, one screamed noticing the sudden shadow casted over them, but when fellow co-workers noticed, it was already too late.

A monster with a blue hide as strong as obsidian and long forelimbs jumped out from nowhere, packing a heavy explosive punch to one of the weakest looking cages containing a herd of aptonoth, docile cow-like creatures with leathery grey skin, but so many in such a panic could be a danger to anything on their path.

The herd pushed each other and ran over everything on their way, ruining the soldier’s computers and capturing equipment, and if not enough, their pace quickened and became more careless when the brachydios — the monster that freed them — roared loud in victory.

Pigmasks took their arms and prepared to take the bipedal carnivore down while others tried to secure the cells, a particular one was gently poked at the shoulder.

“Huh?”, they turned to see a girl with hot pink hair in cosy arzuros armour briefly before being punched on the face, the hit knocking them out.

Kumatora chuckled and looked proud at her monster with thumbs up, “Good job, Dio!”.

Brachydios wagged its tail and roared once more before jumping into the next cell to do much as he had done before.

Soon after the monster left, Lucas arrived at the girl’s side.

“There you’re, kid! How would taking down the computers go?”, Kumatora asked half-embracing him.

“Boney’s taking care of it”, he said calmly pointing at his own monster with only a sight.

Boney was a Stygian Zinogre, a subspecies of lupine monster with few spikes used to store elemental attacks and despite their muscular complexion were agile. Compared to others, Boney was peculiarly small, but such as docile and loyal.

The spikes on Boney’s body jolted upwards as they charged with enough dragon element to deliver a fatal blow to the army’s engineering, leaving it useless after exploding.

“Good! Also…”, Kumatora knelt to rummage through the fainted pigmask’s belongings and taking a set of keys. “I believe these are yours now”, she finished hurling the keychain at Lucas.

He smiled warmly, “Thanks”.

“Now go and get ‘em outta these prisons, Luke! I wanna beat down a pigmask or two!”.

“Sure thing!”, he beamed. “Have fun!”, he waved before rushing off.

“You too!”.

Now it was up for his part of the work. While Kumatora’s was to create a distraction, his was to free the most aggressive monsters. It was a job that required of delicacy and where many things could go wrong, but he had something on his advantage…

He arrived at a cage with a monoblos inside, its brown rock-hard shell had black marks at the sides, as if it had been electrocuted, its unique horn at the tip of their beak damaged, its crown had grown red with anger as it was thrashing about the cell in order to get out, one wrong step and the blond could receive one nasty hit, or perhaps even worst, but he wasn’t scared.

When the right moment came, the boy got his hand into the lockup, it only required one simple pet to make the restless wyvern to stop, though it brusquely turned to see the small human with a killing gaze.

He simply kept smiling. “It’s fine, we’re here to help”, he said without moving his lips though the message resounded loud and clear inside the monster’s skull.

The monoblos’s bright glow began to dim as its face from sheer anger turned into a calm confusion and curiosity when it saw the human child looking through the multiple keys to find the right one that would open the cage.

“There you go”, he opened the door for the wyvern. “You’re free now”.

Insecure, the monster stepped out, looking at the boy one last time, whom relieved it with a simple gesture of extending his arm to signal him it was alright to leave before the wyvern bobbed its head as a thanks and ran away the fastest it could.

Many would have called him a madman for being so dangerously close to a wild monoblos, a highly aggressive wyvern, but much of these people couldn’t do what he and Kumatora, understand what monsters thought.

Granted, it wouldn’t always be as peaceful, but he trusted he could sweettalk a monster out of their rage, but if not, he always had Kumatora and Boney to back him up. As for her… she liked better to punch someone’s face but would talk it out if she deemed violence not necessary. 

Lucas closed the door after the monoblos left, if he were to leave it open another monster could mistakenly walk in, and that was something he wanted not. After being done locking the empty cages, he went for the next cells.

The boy looked around, their work there was close to end when he overheard a conversation between two troopers...

"But we cannot go back to our boss with empty hands! You know what happened to the last who did it!".

"It is but a rumour, I heard he was only downgraded".

"Downgraded? To what? Teostra food?!".

“Why do you even bother about the teostra? The little troublemaker took most of the elders with him, Teostra included”.

“As if it would make any difference being munched by an elder dragon or a common deviljho”.

The trooper groaned. “For the last time, that little monster won’t even be here! If he’s somewhere, it must be around the mainland. Else, we all, along the population of this god forsaken place, would be as good as dead! Whipped out completely! Let’s just go already, I’m hungry!”.

"Or let’s just go back to that brat's search, so our heads won’t roll”.

“If we find him, they will. Capturing monsters is way easier and quicker”. 

“They were only for the bonus! The boy is what boss wants!". 

"Tell me, how do you expect it to be that easy peasy to find a boy among all these pests!?”.

One of the soldiers then turned at Lucas’ direction. "Hey, isn't it the one over there?".

The other turned to notice the blond and oinked in surprise.

Both soldiers walked closer, their bowguns hiding behind their back. Beginning to panic, Lucas stepped back, he could sense trouble drawing close.

“Come here, little monster. If you are nice maybe master Porky will have some pity with you”.

Through the corner of his eyes, he noticed they charged the heavy bowguns; these were ranged arms, making it close to impossible for him to escape, but perhaps…

Lucas drew out his own weapon, a diablos rod at its first phases. It would be hard to tell for certain if it was really an insect glaive as its bug companions were nowhere to be found.

The soldiers burst in laughter. “A stick?!”.

“What would you do with a stick?!”

Calmly, he opened a little bag that rested at his side, a swarm of large bugs erupted out from it and flew to the blonde’s side in wait for instructions.

One of the troopers gulped, “Huh… y’know? I think the kid was redhaired anyways”.

“Oh, please! These are only bugs! We can take them!”, the other answered drawing their gun.

By lifting his glaive and pointing at the men, the insects were given the order; screeching, they launched themselves at the soldiers' limbs and faces, splitting a grotesque liquid over the duo that easily went through the fabric, once meeting with the bare skin it made their body go numb.

When they fell to their knees, Lucas signalled the swarm to go back to their hiding place and whistled. In a flash, the large lupine monster arrived at his aid, growling at the soldiers.

The boy got on his monster and petted his fur. "It's alright, boy. Let's head back", with these single words, Boney turned completely as tranquil as ever and barked happily in reply. Both human and beast ran away, leaving the soldiers in ache and awe.

“See? He even sounds like a normal human rather than a rabid monster!”, if not for being paralysed, would they had slapped the other’s back of the head.

“Maybe it was the wrong boy after all”.

“Don’t you say!”.

The blond was already long gone though the troopers continued with their conversation, as he mounted the fanged beast back to the woods, Kumatora soon joined in. "Hey, you alright?".

He nodded slowly.

"Lucas", she scolded, the boy didn’t know how to lie, and even if he did, there was no way he could lie to her.

Boney began slowing down as so did Kumatora's brachydios at her order until both eventually stopped.

"I overheard a conversation between two pigmasks..."

"Oh?", she lifted an eyebrow. "And are you feeling guilty about it, or-?".

"I think they weren't looking for monsters this time..."

"Why?", now she was truly intrigued.

"One of them said they were looking for a boy...".

"Oh, shi-..."

"But" — he cut in before she could pronounce the whole word — "they s-said he was red haired...". Tears formed at the corner of his eyes and quickly overtook. "O-of course, they mentioned something a-about mainland, but they confused h-him with m-me...! W-what's the possib-bility of...?!".

"Your twin being alive?", she finished the sentence for him.

"Y-yes..."

She neared to throw an arm around the boy's shoulders. "Look, kid. I have no idea 'bout numbers nor probability by that matter" — all of sudden, she brusquely pulled him to look at him in the eye — “But what I _do _know is that you’ll never find it out if you stay here!”.

Lucas sniffed, “W-what do you mean?”.

“Boy, and ‘ere I thought you were smarter than that”, the pink haired girl sighed. “What I mean is…” — she took breathe before shouting… “Go get your stuff packed! We’re leavin’ to the big city, baby!”.

“W-what?! Why?!”.

“To look for your twin, of course!”, she exclaimed puffing her chest and placing her hands over her hips, clearly determined to drag him into the crazy idea.

“W-we cannot do that”, he objected. “They said he might be at mainland and that’s across the ocean a-and…!”.

She interrupted, “No? _No?_ I don’t think I know the meaning of that word, Luke!”.

“You… Just used it…”, he replied brushing off what he was saying.

She made a sweeping gesture as to say it didn’t matter. “Details, kid! What matters is the adventure of your life! Leaving the ol’ lil’ village for first time to go seek your missing bro!”, she exclaimed striking a overdramatic pose.

“B-but riders can’t even leave their village’s territory…”

“Who cares? I mean, we do illegal stuff as vandalizing other’s property!”.

“T-that’s totally different…”. The blond said shyly, blushing slightly in embarrassment for the misdeeds. He knew what she meant, she was talking about spoiling the fun for the pigmasks, but it sounded way more awful than what it actually was put into these words.

“No, it’s not”.

“It is! It’s for the monster’s greater good!”.

“Just as this is for you and your family!”, she exclaimed throwing up her arms. “After so much time you’ve awaited for a miracle, do you expect to just let it go?!”

Lucas hummed nervously, as ever, Kumatora did have a point… but he couldn’t help but think in what could go wrong. “What if we can’t find him? It’s a whole different place… much bigger than our little island, I bet…”. 

“We will, no sweat!” — she said with such confidence it was hard to argue with or not believe her words — “All twins have like… a mental link or somethin’ after all, no?”. 

“Claus is the only twin I know, and I don’t think others have such a thing”, Lucas replied unsure.

“But you do! So, it’ll be alright!”

“But I know nothing of the outside world!”, he exclaimed straightening up.

“ ‘S fine, we can hire a hunter, they know plenty ‘bout that!”.

“I have no money”.

“I do”, she replied with a smug smile.

Lucas remained quiet for a moment, it did seem like a flawless idea this long, until…

“I… I don’t even know the way to the city…”.

“Oh, and neither do I, but…!” — she picked up her hair in a bun and winked in an extremely feminine way so foreign to her — “Violet does!”, she finished in a lovely girlish voice, gaining an odd look from her brachydios only readable as either _“What the heck?”_ or _“Don’t ever do that again”_. “Yes, I neither like that”, she replied to her monster, fixing (ruffling) her hair back to the way it was before, then, she looked at Lucas. “So?”, she asked for a reply.

“There’s still the problem about the going there…”.

“_Psht_, easy. A monster capable of flight does the trick! Gimme an actual challenge, Luke”.

“But Boney can’t fly”.

“You have the red Khezu Duster gave you, don’t you? Or Qurupeco!”.

“But none could possibly carry Boney and me there, and I can’t let him here!…”, he objected embracing tight his monster.

“Why? He’s a good boy, for sure he will behave!”. Boney happily barked to thank Kumatora for the compliment.

“It’s more than that! He… he is my emotional support…”.

She went silent for a moment. Not even questioning if it was truth, coming from Lucas, it was very likely, she just had no idea how to reassure him now… Until a possibility popped up. “We could look around Osohe Castle for a boat and go through sea! Heck, we could even make one ourselves! We’ll be done no time with the aid of our monsties!”.

Lucas soon ran out of questions and grew pensive. It _did _seem like a flawless plan as how Kumatora put it, and the idea of going at the mainland was alluring. He had never left the village nor ever thought he would, and all of sudden, not only was he given the excuse to do so, but a new hope, a hope to find his twin… It was as exciting as it was frightening, but… more than anything he missed Claus.

“Are… you sure it will be fine?”, he asked still insecure.

“Lucas, Lucas, Lucas… Lucas”, she said multiple times pulling him closer. “What’s the worst that could happen with the two of us teaming up with a big strong hunter?”.

He had just begun to smile, however soon it dropped. “But you have work to do…”.

“Violet does, not Kumatora”.

He furrowed his eyebrows and gave her a look of disappointment at her bad joke.

“Geez, fine. No need to gimme that face”, she said letting go of him.

Lucas sighed, though it sounded nice, it was but fantasizing. Truthfully, there was no way they could start looking for a single person in such a vast world, let alone one he had presumed dead for years, if anything, they should focus in others. 

“This is a bad idea… besides, we must keep looking for Duster…”.

Kumatora groaned, now she was the one that would complain. “Why are you making so many excuses? That’s not the Lucas I know!”.

There was silence, and before the pink haired girl could notice, tears began falling once more from the blonde’s eyes. Just few moments ago he seemed perfectly fine, so seeing him upset twice — as if it wasn’t already bad by itself — had caught her off guard.

He sobbed before replying. “I-I… I”, he stuttered, the knot at his throat making it more difficult than what it already was. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up to be crushed again…”. He whispered, shyly looking away with a little blush dusting his cheeks such as his eyes and nose tip reddened.

Kumatora stared at him in silence, “Lucas…”. Hearing her friend grieve so profoundly was a direct hit to her heart, she couldn’t bear to see him like that.

Lucas sighed and lazily leaned against his monster, raking his thick fur in attempts to calm himself. “I don’t know if I could bear that…”.

The pink haired rider said nothing and saw how Boney whimpered at his owner’s pain and made his own attempts into relieving the blond by licking him. Quietly, she pondered how could she cheer her friend up?

“Well… would you rather prefer to don’t know at all? What if it’s really him?”.

“What if it’s not?”, he asked in return merely shifting his gaze towards Kumatora.

“But _if_ he is?”

He prevailed quiet. There was nothing that said for sure if either his twin had died or not…

“Besides, it’s your twin whom we’re talkin’ about! If he’s at least half how strong you are, he will for sure be alive!”.

“He was way stronger…”, Lucas commented wistfully at memories rising from when they were young. 

“See? What if he’s out there somewhere? Lost and in need of his cute little brother?”.

“It was always the other way around…”, he admitted.

“It’s your time to pay him back, then!”.

The blond stood quiet. In his heart he knew it was truth… If so was the case, at least.

At his silence, Kumatora’s gaze softened and she sighed in a manner alike of someone ready to open their heart.

“Look, kid”, she began. “You’re usually the one to come out with the ingenious plans, but this time…” — she smiled warmly at him — “Leave _this_ to me! Good ol’ Kumatora will sort things out so my fav little blondie has the happy ending he deserves!”, she beamed. “Trust me!”.

She had always been so supportive of him, almost like an older sister. Giving up, Lucas cleaned off the tears with the back of his hand and smiled a little.

“What’s your idea?”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s monsters are: Aptonoth, Brachydios, Stygian Zinogre and Monoblos.  
Aptanoth: Type – Herbivores.  
Common monsters, small, good meat! There’s not much to say about these gals, they will run away in herd if they sense danger.   
Monoblos: Type – Flying wyvern; aka. “One-horned wyvern”.  
Found in desserts, these guys look kinda like living rocks that will send you flyin’ if you anger them. Having no element-based attacks, they’re kinda like bulls: the actual threat are their immense physical power with their single horn and tail swings. They can tunnel beneath the sand, so don’t let them sneak on you!  
Brachydios: Type – Brute wyvern; aka. “Crushing wyvern”.  
These bad boys have got lime green slime covering their hammer-like horns and fists, but don’t go bro-fisting any brachydios, as shortly after contact with surfaces not alike their hide the goo will turn red and proceed to explode!  
Stygian Zinogre: Type - Fanged wyvern (beast-like wyverns with developed limbs. Wingless, mostly quadrupedal). Aka. “Hell Wolf Wyvern”, “Emperor of Hell”.  
Stygian Zinogre is a subspecies of Zinogre; while the normal Zinogre has thunder attacks due to their symbiotic relationship with lighting-producing bugs named “Thunderbugs”, this one has formed a bond with dragon-element producing bugs. Zinogres can often be found accompanied by said insects.   
Stygian Zinogres are a little more aggressive than their cousins due to living in areas where they must fight for food and territory, but as you can see, Boney’s not the case.
> 
> Here references to weapon and armour:  
Arzuros armour: http://img3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20130802144919/monsterhunter/images/8/86/MH3U_Arzuros_Armor_Blade.png  
Diablos’s insect glaive: https://monsterhunterworld.wiki.fextralife.com/file/Monster-Hunter-World/diablos_rod.png


	3. Lost and found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is full of angry lizards

He felt a sharp pain at his stomach, as his flesh was pierced through, but the metal instead going out in a straight line curled under his skin and came out again; his back arched in reflex such as a low groan escaped his lips for the same reason. It hadn’t even been the worst pain his body remembered, but wasn’t it such an odd sensation? 

Soon, another stabbing pain, he withered and growled, but otherwise felt unable to move or even open his eyes, he felt too heavy and his slow-processing mind way dazed to the point of physical pain. 

“For Ceadeus’ sake, stop moving!”, he heard someone hiss. If not for the obvious irritated tone, the voice would had been rather… pleasant, almost as one sweet tune.

He began growing aware of his own state despite the fogginess and ache of mind, there was an awful inconsistent taste at his mouth and he could hear a near running body of water muffling the sound of something snapping; not like that of a branch, nor bone, rather like that of a knife cutting a tensed string, then a quiet, soft, sigh.

“Almost done”, the same voice than before relieved, considerably calmer this time. It had sweetened considerably as it had grown more singsong. He had guessed right, it was so pleasant, so silvery it almost put to end his headache.

Bandages were wrapped around his torso — or so he thought that’s what was happening — followed by his right arm and one of his legs.

“There”, then he felt a pat at his shoulders. “Just one more thing…” — he heard rummaging. Then, smooth tissue that somewhat resembled that of scales against his skin, claws at his chin slightly tugging at it to open his mouth, he couldn’t help but begin to worry. _Would this be alright?_ — “Time to wake up”.

Suddenly, a thick liquid trailed down his throat, he felt like choking, it was so hard to swallow as it was almost like very dense honey though instead being sweet, it had a spicy touch to it that perhaps was too much for him to take in. He jolted awake at the horrible sensation of burning and in an outburst of sudden energy dashed to the near river, clumsily submerging his head underwater.

When the burning sensation at his throat died out, he popped back up with a loud gasp for air and eyes wide open. His initial reaction was to be mad, his fingers dug at the soft, moisty soil by the river side as he snarled and turned to see at whomever was with him with a killing gaze.

“What the hell was…?!”, but his jaw, such as his anger, dropped once his eyes met with shiny, beautiful, crystalline ones the colour of the sky, each a different time of the day: the left, a peaceful dawn, the right a fiery dusk with hair as dark as the night falling over it as a veil, its darkness crashing against his moonlight pale skin which had few spots over cheeks and long, pierced, pointy ears kissed with obscure scales that sparkled in cold colours reminiscent of afterhours at gelid lands.

Though the ginger tried to finish his sentence, words came out as barely babbling or stutter at best, all his brain could focus in was the boy’s unique features, somehow delicate and fragile, but the sight sent a mix of painfully cold shivers and jolts throughout his whole body.

"You for sure received one hard hit in the head, didn't you?”, he asked rhetorically with hints of condescendence. It was evident he was unsurprised if so was to be the answer behind the ginger’s inability to talk with half coherency but of course, it also could be the drool building up his mouth. _Humans were so strange sometimes…_

"I...", he tried to articulate his words though failed miserably; not because the youth's assumptions of receiving an overwhelming hit were the case, but because these sparkling crystal-like eyes of his took the redhead’s breathe away.

Growing tired of sensing the ginger’s eyes over him, the dragon-like youth decided to talk what was on his mind. “What? Never had seen a wyverian before?”, he asked raising an eyebrow, arms crossed and his sight further judgemental than before. 

“Y-yes? I mean! N-n… no? I… “, the ginger kept to stutter, the more he gazed upon the wyverian’s eyes, the more he felt allured to get lost into their light. 

The dragon-like youth sighed in annoyance and rolled his eyes, completely unaware of the real reason behind the redhead’s conduct however, somewhat, seeming unamused. “Come ‘ere”, he said, already tired of waiting for him to make any sense and walked close enough to offer a helping hand that had previously been hiding underneath the white laces of long sleeves belonging to a blue scholar uniform.

The redhead stared at it, it was sprinkled with scales that soon reaching the fingertips smoothly transitioned into long obsidian-looking claws much like one of a wyvern’s only that so perfectly polished the ginger could see himself on them, noticing until then the nasty yet old scar across one of his own eyes that certainly didn’t match the other at all.

“C’mon, you can take it, I don’t bite…” — he smirked mischievously, showing off sharp fangs that could easily tear flesh — “…much”, he completed in a singing tune complicated to take as threat, however, the ginger was almost sure it was merely a joke. Almost.

Stiff out of sheer nerves (so be it from what a fool he made out himself or the chill-inducing energy surrounding the wyverian), he took the other’s hand with his metallic arm he had previously failed to notice, the dragon like youth pulled him back on his feet. When the black-haired youth let go of him, he could feel his knees tremble for unknown reason. Few moments ago, he had been more than capable to walk and even run, then — the boy with the scarred eye asked himself — why couldn't he now?

Though the smaller didn't seem to notice — or perhaps he simply didn't care — and led him away from the body of water.

"Sit down", he demanded.

The ginger did without any questioning nor hesitation though he had many inquiries in mind that he couldn’t find the will to ask, as if something within the wyverian’s voice forbid him to do otherwise.

"Here", he said practically shoving a steak into his face.

The redhead looked at the dragon-like youth in confusion, still finding it difficult to fix his attention in other than his crystal eyes or the whole abnormality surrounding them and his general being.

"What are you waiting for? Eat! You're a hunter, aren't you? You need the energy!", he pressured further pushing the piece of roasted meat closer to the ginger.

"Thanks…", he was finally able to mutter taking the kind offer into hand, however — despite the empty feeling at his stomach — not being much fond of the idea. Perhaps due to the… honey-like substance fiasco.

The other beamed, looking pleased. “No problem!”, he said on his singsong voice, a tone that — along his (somehow) cute, warm, smile — completely crashed with the heated one he had previously used.

_Crap, he couldn’t say no to such a tender smile…_

The supposedly hunter began to eat. It was not bad, yet he had problems swallowing. The back of his throat ached as if he would choke, his stomach rolled and this mouth watered as signs of nausea, and to make it worst, the maybe scholar, this time, was the one meticulously watching his every movement. 

Using it as excuse, the ginger put what little of the meat was left, though before he could make any inquiry about it, the other simply stood up and turned on his heels before walking off.

“Where are you going?”, the hunter rushed to ask, not even sure why, a little anxiety reflected on his eyes.

The wyverian merely eyed over his shoulder to look at the ginger, and more precisely, his chest.

“Dude, you need clothes”, he said narrowing his eyes before continuing his business.

Right. If not for about his whole torso been wrapped into bandages, his skin would be completely bare. Although he was grateful for the lower half of his body be not the case, at the very least, he had got to keep his dignity with pants on.

Out of the blue, while he was distracted, a shirt was thrown to his face. Mostly yellow in colour with turquoise about the same shade of one his eyes detailing stripes, swirls and other irregular patterns. Something about it felt familiar…

“Put these on”, the ginger heard the other say.

He didn’t give it much thought and did so almost immediately, noticing the stitches on the fabric, it had been torn apart and put back together it seemed.

“And this is also yours”.

This time the ginger was able to catch the article of clothing without being hit on the progress, which was a major relief due his headache. It was a fingerless glove of sorts, however rather heavy. Many belts to be tied around the length of the arm, black metal plates and a pretty egg-shaped red stone at the centre, going over the back of the hand.

Perhaps his eyes deceived him, but the redhead swore to have seen a gleam in the rock when he put it on. Probably the scholar noticed it too, as his hair bristled, his face turned even paler and his pupils seemed to narrow into a slit however only for fractions of a second before they turned back to normal after shutting his eyes tight, shaking his head and flattened his hair.

_What a peculiar reaction…_

Next, the wyverian picked up what now seemed like a small crossbow and handed it to him with delicacy. It was almost curious for the hunter how so suddenly the other had decided to have a gentler approach, but he didn’t give it much thought as probably it was due to the weapon’s mechanisms. Although, the smaller male did give the impression to be in awe as how his eyes went wider and his pupils this time had dilated as he eyed over how the redhead tied the belts around the metal arm.

The jet-haired boy seemed to be about to ask something, but immediately deciding against it and turning yet again to handle him the rest of the equipment. Now he was carrying an armour, somehow managing his way towards the ginger with the scrapped metal that looked way too heavy for such a small being.

“You must had gotten a really rough time for you and your armour to end up thrashed like this”, he said letting the pile of scrapped metal too damaged to be recognized at the ginger’s feet.

His words seemed to disappear in the thin air along his perception of reality. The ginger could only hear the ring of the metal falling. On his fuzzy, spinning, mind, he could see images he couldn’t quite fully comprehend. He remembered seeing drills piercing his flesh such as screws and bullets which were shot indiscriminately, men dropping to the ground in puddles of gore, the weapons discarded at their unmoving body’s sides, splashing blood everywhere around… 

“Are you alright?”, the scholar’s soft voice pulled him out the trance, his claws loosely poking at the ginger’s trembling arm, as if hesitant to call the hunter’s attention. 

“Yes”. He replied automatic and toneless. The nausea and dizziness had worsened to the point that even his sight felt messed up, he blinked few times in attempts to fix it. “I guess so”, he completed looking down at his lap and taking deep breathe. Truthfully, he felt nothing, just the need to throw up.

He saw the wyverian’s ears flop just as how an upset puppy’s would. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”.

“Hm?”, the redhead lifted his gaze (perhaps too quickly). “No, it’s alright” — he said slowly, trying to soothe the wyverian and his own pain — “I don’t remember most of it”.

The dragon-like boy’s ears jolted up, he seemed further puzzled but genuinely interested. “You don’t remember?”, he repeated.

“No”.

“Nothing at all?!”.

“Merely bodies... And bullets. Many of them”.

The redhead’s voice was so monotone and cold, it sounded dead, about mechanic, unnatural, almost as if it lacked a soul and all essentials to be human or even a living being to start with, and though it awakened some kind of ancient fear in the wyverian, so intrigue. 

“Do you remember anything else, um…?”, he paused, as to wait for the other to complete his sentence by adding his name into the oration, but then the ginger realised… he couldn’t recall that either.

Any sensation he had felt thus far disappeared and was replaced with panic. Did he have a name? He could remember the name of things, they were designations, only words, he won’t have any problem with them, so, then, why was he incapable of saying his own? And now he thought about it, he had no recollection whatsoever about himself! Not where he lived nor his family, all personal information about him was blanc on his mind.

“I don’t remember…”, he replied in dismay at the realization, his tone varying in the slightest to reflect the hopelessness of the circumstances but his sight so lost and empty, dead.

The wyverian now was beyond worried, his eyes opening wider and his skin going paler, he took pride in knowing how to handle most situations, but this one? Hah! No. Not at all.

“How about where you’re from?”, he tried, his words stumbling a little.

“I can’t remember a thing…”, the redhead replied dropping his gaze back into his lap with the same blanc stare that lacked all life that along his so stiff movements resembled a machine which just burst a circuit or two.

The dragon-like youth stared at the nothingness in attempt to process in what kind of predicament had he gotten tangled up now. It couldn’t be that bad, right? Finding a man whom probably work… or _worked _with the Research Commission, seemingly the sole survivor from a massacre in middle of a forest _in old world_, heavily injured despite his rare equipment, with signs of many different status effects (possibly poison and, or, dragonblight he had deemed due to odd pigmentation at his skin), with more bullets on his flesh than blood left on his body, needing stitches, bandages, and heaven knows how many potions and spells plus no recollection about himself whatsoever…

Yep, he had utterly messed up big time. But he couldn’t have left to die a human that was though wounded and bleeding to death still breathing, therefore, could be saved. No matter under what circumstances he had found him in, abandoning that poor unfortunate soul would be just unhuman, and due to the turn of events neither could he let him down now. (Yet, at the very least).

He shifted his gaze from one place to another, trying to figure out what to do next. Leaving the stranger all by his lonesome was no option, he had to be, maybe, deep down, somewhat scared as apparently he had lost all memories, but neither could he take him where he was going! It would be but a bother to have a human this wounded by his side! Especially for _where _he was heading! Hunter or not, or even if part of the Research Commission, it was deadweight.

Not to mention, as far as it concerned him, one, the guy could have killed these other people. A member of the Research Commission had nothing to do here in old world, it was only the most logical conclusion… And two, there was probably someone out there looking for him… _a way or another_. He hoped for the less nightmare-fuel one.

“Look” — he begun, finally coming up with a single idea. The ginger jolted and seemed to reboot within the first word leaving his mouth — "there’s a village not too far away from here. I could take you there and ask for a missing hunter while you go to the hot springs and heal a little, whatcha say?”.

There was nowhere he had to be, nor nowhere to go that he remembered — not that he remembered much — hence, deeming he neither had nothing to lose.

"I would like that, umm…" — he paused to ask for the wyverian’s name in such a subtle way as he had done before him, but while humming the dragon-like youth shushed him, lifting a single clawed finger to the ginger’s mouth.

“Shhh, wait”, he said barely above a whisper, his pupils had turned as fine as a thin line and his ears flicked along his gaze at the wood’s depths beyond the near river.

“What is it?”, the confused redhead asked as quietly as he could.

“Sh!”, repeated the wyverian covering the ginger’s mouth, though soon letting go of him as he crouched silently his way to were two weapons laid, one a branching blade of purple hues with electricity coursing through it and the other a wooden, gigantic, conch-shell hunting horn that seemed to have grown slightly grey with the pass of time, the black haired youth took the last.

“Why wouldn’t you take the sword?”, asked the redhead following him.

“Because that’s yours. Now hush”, he replied brusquely shoving the blade’s handle to the hunter’s chest.

“Ugh, c’mon! You’re making more noise than me!”, he quietly protested.

“But I haven’t got my everything depending on stitches and bandages to keep my innards where they belong, so stay back, remain quiet and use that thing _only_ if necessary!”, he worded a little way louder than what he would had expected.

When he turned to look daggers at the hunter, he noticed his eyes were no longer over him but at something behind.

The wyverian took deep breath and then sighed. “It’s behind me, isn’t it?”, he asked deadpan.

“Damn right”, the other answered unfazed.

Before turning, the wyverian heard barks. It was but a small pack of jaggi, bipedal monster mostly pink, with purple foreclaws, back-stripe, and head-frills with a little white fur-like feathers on its outline and along their tail while its underbelly cream coloured; their leader, a great Jaggi — an alpha, bigger, version of the same monster — at the centre. 

Certainly, they outnumbered them, and so did the alpha was bigger than the tallest out of the hunter and scholar, but Jaggi were nothing but minor nuisances unaware of their own limits, so limited in mind they would believe themselves worthy of facing monsters way out their league. 

Baring his teeth, the wyverian growled in annoyance, sounding much like an actual dragon. Perhaps it would be intimidating for smaller monsters, but it only seemed to incite the Jaggi’s natural competitive demeanour further.

The redhead quietly reached to draw his weapon, though was immediately stopped by the other boy slapping his hands away and then gesturing to stay sit.

“What did I tell you? Stay behind, I can handle this myself”, he said rushing towards the biggest Jaggi with a weapon that seemed too big and heavy for such a small gal (or at least that was the ginger’s opinion). 

Said and done, he only had to smack the alpha monster in the head for it to cry out and spill its teeth. The smaller Jaggi growled and pounced at the wyverian, though he quickly battered them, launching the minions against a near tree.

While the black-haired youth was distracted, the great Jaggi charged at him. Regardless what the smaller boy had told him, the ginger rushed to try to help out, but was not necessary as when the monster was about to tackle him, the wyverian hopped aside and bashed the bird wyvern right at its ribs, making it fall at its side with a loud sound of bones cracking.

The remaining minions prepared for another group attack until the call of their struggling alpha signalled them to draw back. The wyverian merely watched them go, his claws still tight around the large instrument if they were to do anything funny, but this time it didn’t seem like the case.

“Hmm… That’s odd… I could have sworn I heard something way bigger than just few ja...”

Suddenly — merely in question of seconds — before he could even get to finish what he was saying, the fleeing jaggi that was attempting to cross the near river was ambushed by giant maws that came out the blue. The monster screeched loudly until it was dragged into the water, dying it a dark shade of red.

The scholar opened his eyes widely, knowing fully well what monster it was and rushed to pick up his backpack and to the ginger’s side, pulling him up by the arm and when the redhead was on his feet letting go of him.

“Nothing to see here! Let’s g- “.

A loud roar deafened them, and the next thing the redhead knew was he heard a muffled wyvern screech taking the place of the wyverian’s words as he skid face down on the dirt due to a heavy impact, losing his red beret on the way along loosening the bow around his neck, black markings of electricity at his back, sparks still running through his uniform.

Almost could the hunter hear the dark-haired boy mumble “Run”, but the ginger knew it was not an option, the wyverian hadn’t left him behind and neither would he.

Immediately, he turned back to notice the same monster that ate the jaggi — Lagiacrus, a leviathan with blue hide and cream colours underneath with crocodile features except for its long serpentine neck and electric-charged horns and shell — had shot a thunder ball to the wyverian and was willing to finish off what it started by preparing another blast.

Having no time to react any other way, the ginger got on the bolt’s way and drew his sword as a shield. It didn’t block completely the hit, but at least it had saved them from a major part of it.

“What are you doing?!”, hissed the wyverian barely being able to hold himself on his elbows as visible electricity ran through his body, paralyzing him.

“What does it look like?!”, he shouted back as he blocked a third shot.

The monster roared furiously, flinching both due its high volume; thunders and sparks came out from the monster’s carapace as it did and after the monster readjusted its position to tackle the pair, successfully accomplishing its commitment, sweeping the floor with the two boys and leaving a trail of electricity behind.

Not yet satisfied, Lagiacrus roared again to assert its dominance over the grounds, producing another thunderstorm around it, electrifying the hunter and wyverian.

The dragon like youth gritted his teeth in pain but managed to stand up again, tightening his grip on his weapon, he ran towards the monster and struck lagiacrus’ caparace, breaking bits of the crystal spikes that helped it to produce electricity.

Though a mere hit was not enough, it still had plenty energy-producing organs. Accumulating thunder element at its mouth, it snaked away and immediately after turned to attempt to bite the black-haired youth’s wyvern-like legs off but being stopped by a direct strike at its nose with the ginger’s great sword, which much alike to the monster produced electricity at impact.

Lagiacrus recoiled. Taking it as an opening, the ginger heaved the sword at the leviathan's chest, breaking the scales Using the very same impulse of the blade, he flung himself up, hitting its jaw and top of the head to finally arrive at the monster's back. There, he stabbed the monster relentlessly, his vision starting to cloud as bloodthirst from the darkest depths of his mind crawled up his hands, impeding him from stopping. 

The monster threw bites, kicked and whipped its long neck in struggle to get the hunter off its back, but the blade was deep into its flesh, preventing the hunter from easily falling off meanwhile the unaware wyverian played his own part hitting the Lagiacrus at its sides to help the ginger knock down the monster, but their combined attempts were for naught, as when its movements grew more erratic it finally managed to throw them off.

Perhaps the sudden jerk — or in all cases, the impact against the hard floor — was enough to shake the thoughts of need for gore off the ginger’s mind since when he hit the floor it felt like it was but a distant memory as the fall’s pain overcame him. In the corner of his eye, the hunter could see the wyverian getting back on his feet.

This time, the dragon-like youth was the one to get the less bad hit and recovered rather quickly. “Alright, hunter. Let’s stop playing nice”.

The ginger shook off the dirt from his hair. “And you decide to do that until now?!”, he exclaimed before being hit by the Lagiacrus’ whip tail, the action making his blood boil, reawakening the thirst for gore.

“Shut it”, the jet-haired boy said before playing his hunting horn while the leviathan was distracted.

“This is not the time to be playing songs!”, the hunter complained snarling, cutting the monster’s tail off in revenge, his grip around the great sword’s handle so tight he could see his knuckles draining of colour.

A cacophony resounded louder than the monster’s growls, though an amalgam of various sounds, somehow it made a musical sense. Soon, both boys were enveloped by a colourful aura, healing all scratches and suddenly feeling revitalized though confused on the hunter’s case.

“What did you…?”, he asked, calmer now with the soothing melody.

“Don’t question the power of the hunting horn’s holy songs!”, the wyverian answered before rushing to the Lagiacrus and smacking its head with a thunderous sound wave produced by the weapon while it was still down for the pain of getting its tail cut off.

The leviathan stomped and roared to get back up, flinching the wyverian as he was nearer the hearing radio, and when it was about to cut him with its foreclaws, the hunter pushed him off the way.

Lagiacrus snaked away to bite the hunter but yet again failed to do so and it was the one to receive a slash across the face instead. Unable to see, the monster roared in pain and charged towards whatever was in front of it, the hunter.

The electricity running through his body stunned him, but the hunter was able to use the crossbow-like support weapon that conveniently was equipped with a clutch claw to attach to a near tree, getting out the way before Lagiacrus rammed into a rock wall.

What they didn’t contemplated, though, was that the leviathan’s impact against the rock would cause heavier boulders to fall off, crushing the monster’s head, its skull popping like a bubble, leaving splatters of brain and blood, even its now dull, grey, eyes bursting out.

The ginger looked at it in horror as he landed. Painfully cold chills going up his spine making him tremble and what he had felt like earlier that day returning worst than the hits of the creature that now laid out cold before him. He could not comprehend this at all! It was close to understandable the need to take the monster down if he was hunter, but… If he was a hunter, didn’t it mean he had to be used to seeing monsters die? And even worse, at his own hands? Then, why would it feel so bad? So guilty? Why would it be so hard to look at the leviathan even when not so long ago he sought to kill it?

Footsteps where heard drawing closer to him, with leaves cracking underneath. “Well… that was rather… unexpected”, the wyverian said as he retrieved the missing hat, dusting it off. “Though I guess you could use the hide” — he paused briefly to look at the ginger — “Hunter?... Hunter?!”.

The black-haired boy raised his voice noticing the blank look at the redhead’s eyes, he was violently trembling, his skin growing paler as blood bloomed at his shirt and peered out the corner of his lips. The wyverian rushed to the hunter’s side, but in mere seconds before reaching him, the ginger’s legs gave up.

As his vision went black, he could still hear the wyverian's voice and the leaves cracking as he sat down besides him, the last he could listen to being the dragon-like youth calling out for him before his senses completely faded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s monster is my good first flagship monster: LAGIACRUS! And our lord and saviour Jaggi.
> 
> Jaggi: Type – Bird Wyvern (or “fake wyvern”)(Often medium-sized monsters with slender bodies, they might or might not have wings, but they’re bipedal and may have bird traits).   
Jaggi is quite interesting, these guys will fight anything that enters their territory, like… “Oh, see that big bad hunter over there? The one with the amour made out of a LITERAL GOD?! Yeah, we can take on that”.  
Great Jaggi are alfa males that won their role by epic battle royale after long times of being on their own, training for this very moment! While Jaggi are younger versions of this big boi, and “Jaggia” are the females.
> 
> Lagiacrus, “Sea Wyvern”, “Lord of the seas”: Type – Leviathan (a class of monster specialized in swimming, they’re often top predators at their environments thanks to this).   
Lagiacrus is basically the bastard baby of pikachu, Lapras, and Feraligatr: it has the face and neck of a Feraligatr, the body of a Lapras, and is electric like Pikachu (its electricity being stored in specialized organs).   
I used to be really scared of this boy, I was new at MH with 3, and this was my first flagship monster, BOI, WASN’T I SCARED WHEN I SAW THOSE GLOWING ORANGE EYES STARING RIGHT INTO MY SOUL?! Knowing there was no way I could take on that and only a gun to fend by myself! Haha! Good ol’ times, nowadays I kill these for breakfast. 
> 
> Anyways, there are other things I must address, WYVERIANS!  
Wyverians are old species, certainly not human, legends say they’re descendants of the wyverns, thus why some wyverians can be really different from humans, like… having claws, scales, digitigrade legs, elf-like ears, four-fingered hands… these are not the case for all wyverians, tho.   
Most wyverians also have different mindsets from humans, such as them being more spiritual/religious, favouring intellect and education, etc. 
> 
> And now, to finish:   
Status effects and Hunting horn.  
Hunting horn is a weapon that is both attack and support, which can grant you special positive status, such as power ups, movement speed up, healing (from both injuries and bad status effects), etc. 
> 
> Now, as for status that might need to clarify:  
Dragonblight: dragonblight reduces your affinity with your weapon (less affinity kinda means less damage).
> 
> P.S.: I swear there are plot reasons behind all that gay, I SWEAR.


	4. The ship sails?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally something short!  
Dear reader: you're not paid enough for this crap and you should be doing homework instead reading this shit.

_Finding a ship, sailing off to the mainland, finding Claus and being happily ever after._ The plan sounded easy, but if you asked the riders, they’d tell you it actually was NOT. Of course, Kumatora would never admit it face-to-face, even less if Lucas was around since the blonde’s hopes depended on a slim, fragile, thread; however, it all was a challenge from the start.

The first obstacle had been the ship. Heavens, not even the magypsies had one! Kumatora had asked her guardians, and nope, nothing, nada! Though the pink haired rider hadn’t given up just yet! She had to work hard to help out her friend and would make sure nothing stopped them until their deed was fulfilled!

But…

“Kumatora, I don’t think this will work out”, said the blond putting the nails and hammer aside.

“We just gotta try harder!”, exclaimed the girl chopping in two a pile of wood with her bare hands, her Brachydios mimicking her in fashion and roar of determination though not as successfully; his punches were too big, making the wood burst into multiple pieces, and its vocal chords were not precisely made to be alike human speech.

A low-pitched, lazy, groan was heard, coming from a brute wyvern, a young deviljho, which Lucas looked after.

“And Drago Jr. says he’s hungry…”, he commented wincing. A hungry deviljho was never good news, and though he feared not the infant monster, it would be just cruel to let the baby hunger. “We should really take a break now”.

Kumatora sighed and cleaned the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. “Fine!”, she groaned. “But after a quick break we will keep working!”.

“Sure thing, Kuma”, he replied disheartened, though afterwards his tone cheered a little. “I’m bringing lunch, anything in special you want?”.

“Meat!”, she exclaimed flexing her arms dramatically, her monster mimicking her still.

“You should eat more vegies…”

“Never! We apex predators don’t eat such!”.

He seemed pensive for a moment. “Do you want a donut?”.

“Hell yes!”.

“Apex monsters don’t eat such”, the blond quoted her in mocking tone, playfully sticking out his tongue at her.

“Aw! C’mon, Luke!”, she complained.

“Only if you eat more vegies, they’re good for your health”.

“Only if you bring me meat!”.

“Deal”.

She nodded with both hands at her hips. “Deal”.

Lucas smiled at her before turning and leaving to his house followed by his monsters. It was way closer to where they were than Kumatora’s place, the castle, yet, it still gave the pink haired rider quite a time to think how could she fix this up.

She sat down, and so did her monster, resting its head besides her. “How can we sort things out, Dio?”, she asked the brute wyvern, scratching its head. In reply, it made loud purring noises.

The rider stared into the horizon, at the distance, she could see a hot air balloon swelling with a trademark alike a pig’s snout she so recognized, these pigmasks were again at it!

She gritted her teeth, _how many times will they had to teach a lesson to these…?!_ But then it occurred to her. _Maybe there was a way to obtain a ship after all_, she thought with a smirk. Not quite what they had expected, but it would surely do. All that was still up to doubt being either wait for Lucas or surprise him with the good news.

She leaned more for the last.

“Everyone, ready up!”, she told her monsters springing up. “I think I’ve figured out!”

Her monsters cheered in unison, except for her Arzuros — a bear-like monster with distinctive blue fur except for its ridge of cream coloured hair aligned with its nose — whom with its long tongue and crimson claws was devouring a seemingly empty beehive for its honey.

“Huh… Except arzuros, I suppose”, she commented knowing well it was just useless to deal with the monster when it was feasting on the viscous and sweet produce. Anyhow, the bear would do fine by itself if it was doing nothing but stuffing its face with honey.

Dwelling no further on the subject, she climbed up her brachydios to head where she would have seen the balloon. She didn’t even bother with a strategy, after all, with monster at her side she knew there was not much to worry. Besides, not everything in life could go according to a neat little plan, no. She would improvise, and everything will go well!

_____

There was no hint of riders in the close area, the hot air balloon was close to its maximum expanding point, and when that happened, and all caged monsters had been stocked into the airship, it would be time to leave. Everything seemed to be going smoothly for the pigmasks finally, until a sandstorm struck. Condemned island in middle of nowhere, they were not paid enough for this!

A pigmask in blue uniform, a common captain unhappy with his miserable job and mediocre payment, looked through the main cabin’s window, and what a nasty sandstorm was it. How could it be if they were not even at the island’s desertic biomes? Though, later with the screams of their men and roars of the bowgun’s barrels it was evident it hadn’t been the landmass’s unpredictable weather, but monsters instead.

The captain slackly made his way towards the door and opened it in slow motion, only to be greeted by frozen statues of his teammates, and then, a stupid amount of ice to the face as a young girl with pink hair made her way into the office.

“We’ll be takin’ this, hope ‘ya don’t mind!”, she kicked the cube of ice the blue pigmask was captive into out the way along the rest of the frozen men. “Not like I care, of course!”, she beamed. “Abbaccio, dispose of them!”.

Yet frozen, the captain could see a quadrupedal wyvern with cat-alike features covered by an icy white shell, Barioth. The feline monster roared, showing off its amber tusks before clobbering the ice with its spiked tail, sending him off with the other pigmasks trapped in ice out from the ship.

“Alright, get in, boys!", she called out before a stampede of big monsters made their way into the airship. “Jotaro, get your tail 'ere on this instant and let that thing where you found it! You don't know where that pigmask have been!", she scolded an ironically tailless deviljho, which had been happily licking like a popsicle a trooper imprisoned into the ice, despite the mask he was visibly scared.

Deviljho groaned loudly, still refusing to put the human popsicle down.

“Jotaro!”.

The monster huffed and spilled out his mouth the ice before storming into the airship, it seemed annoyed, but didn’t disobeyed the young girl.

“Alright! Now time to go!”, she smirked mischievously, looking straight to the blue pigmask. “I leave the rest to you guys”.

At first it sounded off, but after the airship took flight, the troopers noticed what the girl had really meant. The cages had been opened and the now the furious monsters they had imprisoned sought vengeance.

The lesser troopers screamed in panic for their fate, but the blue captain only figuratively sighed, the ice too fresh to have melted enough to leave anything of himself out compared to his teammates.

Not. Fucking. Paid enough for this.

__

Lucas arrived, at the open plains where he had last been with Kumatora, confused to only find Arzuros yet continuing to stuff itself in honey. The blonde might be wrong, but he was almost sure the bear had somehow collected more honey.

“Arzuros? Why are you all alone?”.

No reply whatsoever, it knew its priorities and even if it was not the case, it was likely it had missed where Kumatora had gone to.

Lucas was growing anxious, he knew Kumatora wouldn’t leave him like that, even less her monster, but what if she was in trouble? What if she needed help?! What if?!...

Sky seemed to go grey suddenly though in reality it was but a mere large shadow casted above them.

“‘Yo! Luke! Up here!”, he heard.

He looked up and gasped seeing Kumatora’s two Barioth and single Diablos guiding the immense ship, monsters struggling to keep their tails away the turbines. “Kumatora?! W… What are you doing there?! Where would you-?” — he paused noticing the emblem at the side of the balloon, reminiscent of a pig’s snout. “What would you do?!”.

“Fulfil my word, of course! What else?! Now hang in there, we’re takin’ this thing as close to the floor as we can!”. Kumatora turned to see her monsters. “C’mon, guys”.

Lucas stared perplexed as the airship descended over the open field, the strong gusts of air complicating Arzuros from feasting on the honey, the candy-like substance being send off into its fur, getting not only the pelt sticky, but the bear hungrier and upset for the loss of its meal as well.

With the ship’s wood barely brushing against the grass, Kumatora called out for her Deviljho, a gate to the airship opened where the brute wyvern and most of the pink-haired rider’s monsters awaited inside along empty cages and trails of half-dried water.

“Luke!”, the pink haired rider burst from a chamber deep inside the airship. “What are you doing just standing there? C’mon, get on! It’s a long travel to mainland!”.

Hearing its rider’s voice and with no more honey left to devour, Arzuros slowly crawled up the airship, now only the blond and his team remained.

Lucas looked back, gazing at the rider village so far away, thinking on how could he possibly leave like this? He had told no one, perhaps it would have been wise to at least let his father know. _But would he really care? Would he even notice?_

“Luke?”.

“What should I do about this?”, he asked facing the cart full of edibles but his eyes yet on the small town.

“Bring it in, of course!”.

He gulped. “O-of course…”.

What a lame excuse.

What was he doing? Kumatora had told him it would be alright. Father was barely ever home, he won’t notice. Then what was the point into looking back? Maybe, deep down, he still had doubts about this so-called adventure’s outcome, about himself, about how hopeless he would feel when it turned out Claus was nowhere around and…

He snapped out of it when he felt something cold and wet against his cheek, Boney’s tongue. His loyal monster had licked him before playfully nuzzling the side of his head to further reassure him it would be alright.

The blond let out a bittersweet giggle that yet dragged hints of a fear to uncertainty. “Thanks, boy”, he said barely above a whisper, hugging the monster tight.

Boney wagged his tail and barked happily at his owner’s smile. So little and finite, but the lupine monster would give his best to make it last as long he could, whatever it took, even if it meant going to places unfamiliar for them in foreign lands.

The Stygian Zinogre gave a gentle headbutt to his owner, pushing him towards the airship. Lucas nodded in acknowledge, his smile brightening up on the slightest.

Setting foot into the airship, he whistled for the rest of his monsters to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have Kumatora’s almost whole *cough*POKEMAN*cough* team…  
So…. What’s new? The barioths, Arzuros and Diablos. 
> 
> Barioth: Flying wyverns.  
Barioths are cat-alike monsters, like flying Saber… tooths? Teehth??? What’s the plural to saber tooth? Anyways, here I present you two bois: the regular Barioth and their cousins, the subspecies Sand Barioth.  
While Barioth are found in frozen places such as Tundra, Sand barioths are found in deserts. Both can make powerful gusts with their wings, regular barioth will freeze you until making you a literal snowman! Sand barioths will murder you brutally and refresh themselves with your blood. 
> 
> Arzuros: Fanged beast.  
This is a tank mixed with a bear, they love honey so much that they will deem no attention to you if they’re feasting on it, and if you have honey: run if you want to keep it.  
The silly guys seem fat, but they can escape rather quick if the situation deems it.
> 
> Diablos: Flying wyvern; King of the desert.  
They might be herbivores, feeding mostly on cacti, but believe me, they won’t like seeing you in their territory. Cousins to the monoblos, they’re pretty alike, being like bulls ready to burst your balls.
> 
> Also: Kumatora’s team is a Jojo reference? YES, BECAUSE FIGHT ME! Kumatora would like Jojo, I cannot be convinced otherwise!


	5. Mountain dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the two boys are losing their heads and certain redhead takes things too literally.

Limb by limb teared apart and crammed back together, crystal was shoved into his skull such as wires, drills pierced flesh, red hands rummaged under his skin into his opened up, broken, ribs; moving through his innards, body fat, intestines, lungs and his utterly unusable heart. Cables took the place of veins, electricity of blood, metal of the once human limbs and valves of what he once thought was irreplaceable, but now, as he laid still on the cold alloy surface, he realized how wrong and naïve he had been.

If his heart formed still part of him and was yet able to pump blood and adrenaline through his veins, it would be beating at nerve-wracking rhythm, so hard against his chest it would have broken his ribs if they were not already shattered; all out of fear of how he was being mutilated and build anew.

_Would there be anything left of him when it was over?..._

Images of the drills, wires, needles and all these metals so foreign to his body that yet penetrated it overlapped with these of bullets being shot and blades being swung. It was the same for him, they had damaged him in more ways than just his body. The only real difference laid under what purpose they had destroyed him: being build anew to be something you were never supposed to be was not the same than being hunt like an animal, but equally as terrifying. 

The roar of the bowgun’s barrels, their fire, the poison, his blood spilling on the floor, electric shocks, that thirst for revenge… to make them suffer the very same pain they had put him through… Skulls being crushed under heavy combat boots, throats ripped open with bare teeth that felt not his own, his mouth filling with the taste of metal and purple foam.

He… he didn’t want to think about this. He didn’t want to think on the organs pouring out unmoving bodies nor the crunching of bone and certainly not in that intoxicating smell of gore nor dark eyes devoid of all life.

_A life the worst kind of monster had taken._

It went dark, like a night without stars. He could not see a thing nor feel his body, but he could hear a voice so sweet and caring beckoning him…

_What was it saying?... _He could not tell, not just yet…

Now he could hear birds and soft whispers of the wind; gusts brushed his hair and caressed his cheeks. His eyes opened to see blue skies, a bright day, sunlight gently bathing over the so beautiful yellow flowers that danced along the currents of air.

Within the wind he heard the voice again, calling. _It almost sounded like a person’s name… _He looked around and saw nothing except for the vast sunflower fields that somehow brought relief to his crumbling down body, but when he tried to move around, he found himself firmly glued to the soil.

_Please, no…_

Suddenly he lacked oxygen, water threatened to drown him by going past his head. The skies were not light blue but the most obscure grey; thunders fell, there was someone far away, beyond his reach and of any help. He wanted to be close to that someone, he _needed _to save that someone, but they were nowhere in sight, only the darkness that slowly consumed him and grew from the very inside of his skull.

A blood-chilling scream jolted him awake.

The ginger abruptly straightened up with a loud gasp and threw the blankets off from him as how they tangled his body remind him of the complete darkness of the void that he had just woken up from. He was feeling lightheaded, but on top that, bewildered; having no time to process both what had occurred and what was currently happening. _Where was him?! What was this place?! Wh-... who’s voice was that?..._

While still panting relentlessly due to his shortage of breath, he frantically looked everywhere around, finding himself in a small yet cosy room, sitting at a rough but not entirely uncomfortable bed, and not too far away from him, certain wyverian stared at him perplexed. A book the ginger could not quite read the tittle of being held loosely in one of his hands while the other reached for him; scythe-alike claws non-threateningly curling around his shoulder as what the so-called hunter thought was a gesture of reassurance.

The redhead returned the stare, seeming as scared and confused as the wyverian. The dragon-like youth blinked few times as if making sure it was reality while both held gazes; the one with the scar found it easier to relax when looking into the black-haired boy’s so beautiful eyes… until he closed them with a heavy sigh.

He carelessly flopped back into a chair next to the bed. “Thanks, Dalamadur…”

The wyverian sounded relieved nonetheless terribly exhausted, the tiredness of his tone matched the dark circles under his eyes and languid movements.

The carrot-haired boy kept staring at him in confusion, awaiting — or rather — pleading for an explication. So many questions on his mind simultaneously racing that he didn’t know where to start._ How_ to start. Should he ask about where they were? What was this place? What had happened to him? Or perhaps ask about what in the world happened to the wyverian?

Whether the case, the dragon like youth was soon to answer these yet unasked questions.

Straightening up, he raked his claws throughout his hair and heavily sighed once more before making eye contact with him. All traces of concern on his look had now been wiped off leaving only irritation.

“We are at Yukumo village” — he started, arms over his chest after positioning carefully with the grace of a kelbi the book that he was reading at his lap — “the place is known for its hot springs with, some people would dare to say _‘magical’ _capabilities. So I expect you” — “_to get your sorry ass out from that bed and into the Dire Miralis damned water_”, was what the wyverian wanted to say, but his better judgement must remind him humans won’t usually act into such derogatory ways after meeting someone... _Usually_.

Not that it would normally hold him back from cussing and acting out of sheer sass, but there was something peculiar about this one human that even when he had caused him so much trouble he couldn’t just bring himself to stay angry at regardless his very base instincts screaming to snap his neck right then and there and consume his yet boiling blood seasoned with fear and despair.

“To... be there soon”, he corrected himself with a cough to clear his throat and fixing the bow adorning his neck before turning on his heels towards the door.

For some reason, the redhead didn’t want to keep his eyes on the door the wyverian would leave through, he didn’t want to see him go away… but he couldn’t quite name the cause behind such an odd behaviour; all he could think of were the images of his dream returning to his mind along the ghosts of pain and a so intense fear that seemed to stop time along his capability to talk, courtesy of a knot at his throat. 

Being unable to say anything, he clutched at the blankets, staring down into how they folded within his grip, just then noticing the bandages around his torso. They were clean and neatly tied around him, thus, there was a high chance that they had been changed not too long ago. _Could it had been...?_

He looked up at the wyverian, it all had felt just like time had slowed down or even completely froze just for him to arrive to this conclusion, even his breathing had momentarily stopped and only resumed after that dark hair reminiscent of night’s veil fluttered as the dragon-like youth turned, his eyes meeting the redhead’s.

“What are you looking at?”, the wyverian hissed with a frown at his face. Inferno unleashing on his sight hinted at certain death where blood was surely to be spilled, but even then, irradiated with beauty.

The redhead gulped to undo what little was left of the knot at his throat and forced himself to speak up. “The bandages…”, was all he could muster to articulate.

The wyverian raised an eyebrow. “Oh. Yeah, I did that”, he started with a little pride at his tone but otherwise unreadable. “I didn’t want to deal with the paperwork for a dead monster _and _a human. Thank me later”.

“Thanks…”, the redhead said almost immediately.

He simply huffed. “Just thanks me by don’t doing such a stupid thing like getting in the way of a monster’s attack on purpose ever again”.

The redhead shrugged. “It would have hurt you, or worst”.

Again, the wyverian crossed his arms. “And? I’d have simply been cut in half or somethin’. What you did back there was reckless”.

For some reason, how the other put it like if it was no big deal made his blood boil. “After what you did for me? Did you seriously expected me to just let you get hurt?”, he asked half hissing.

Dark as night hair bristled. “Duh! It was stupid to take the blow instead! Stupid and imprudent!”, he exclaimed throwing his arms on the air before they fell back onto his sides and stiffened with anger. “You should have left the moment I told you to run!”.

The redhead clutched harder at the blankets; he couldn’t bring himself to think what could have happened in the situation where he had done such. “Even if we had left the moment that Jaggi was eaten, the Lagiacrus would have caught up”.

Well, the hunter was not wrong, but he was not backing off from the argument and accepting defeat that easily. “It doesn't change the fact of how dumb it was for you to stay”.

“Just as it was dumb of your part to bring me, a total stranger, all the way up here and taking the bother to treat my wounds”.

His eyes opened widely; he didn't saw that coming… The black haired one huffed and looked away. “Well, what else was I supposed to do? Leave you to die after... all...th-... “— he stopped, his tongue unable to roll off after noticing what the redhead was aiming at, to which he was only able to reply by shooting a glare of disdain at the redhead. _Clever boy._

“Was I supposed to, then?”, he repeated.

The wyverian grunted and took deep breath before letting it back out. Perhaps it was time to give up. “Look, it's-... it was nice from your part to don't leave me to die, I suppose. So _thanks, Mr. Hunter_” — he said in mocking tone — “if that's what you wanted to hear, there! You have it!”, he sassed rolling his eyes. 

The other shook his head solemnly. “Not at all. I just want to... somehow pay you back”.

He couldn't help but feel intrigued at what the hunter could mean by that. Hadn't him done enough already? Weren’t most hunters after a reward for their heroic tasks?

“Speak”, the wyverian demanded with a condescending glare although taking a little more relaxed posture by placing one of his hands at his hips while resting his weight over one leg.

Not sure himself of what was he doing, nor for whom was he doing this — truly did he wanted to make it up for the wyverian? Or was it merely because all of sudden he found unpleasant the idea of leaving his side? — he begun. “I... I know I might not be much, but I want to be of help”.

Quiet clicking noises came from the reptile-like youth as he took few steps closer, leaning slightly forwards, his pace slow and careful as a wyvern stalking its prey. “So, in other words, you want to come with me”. He lifted an eyebrow. “Or am I wrong?”, he asked for confirmation snaking his sharp tongue, a gesture barely perceptible as most of it was kept inside his mouth, but the ginger noticed nonetheless.

The redhead gulped, for someone so short the wyverian had quite an intimidating aura. “Yes”, the hunter replied straightening up in attempt to look confident on his decision.

“What makes you think I would need a hunter?”, the wyverian asked after moving closer to the huntsman’s side. The black-haired youth was well aware of the ginger’s insecurity bubbling within him, he could feel it. He wanted to see how far he could take it before the redhead cracked. If the human couldn’t handle a little lizard like himself, what was the possibility of even surviving the larger one that he was looking for?

“Your clothing. That's a scholar uniform, right?”, the hunter asked, not really sure where he would pick that information from. “And you were all by yourself in middle of the forest. You must had been doing field research”.

He was not wrong. “There, hunter, you are right. But I must inform you to assume I need assistance only for not being a tall and strong hunter like yourself is where you are mistaken. I'm a scrivener, and compared to others with the same job, I'm used to working alone, no matter how dangerous the place might be.” — he paused to get closer and boop the hunter's nose with his fingertip, his claws poking at the redhead's forehead — “And you, hunter, are in no position to go to such places nor even fight”.

The wyverian beamed with a smile that though threatening and irritated was the prettiest the ginger had ever seen, yet again the scholar took his breathe away.

In the blink of the eye, the dragon-like youth’s claws were poking at the bandages on his torso. “Unless you want these pretty viscera of yours scattered all around the floor, that is”.

The wyverian's claws sent shivers down his spine as they threatened to rip open his insides, his face was shadowed with a darkness alike to his hair that veiled over his blood red eye, but pass the intimidation of the hellfire reflected on these perfectly crystalline ocular globes, the hunter yet found the tranquillity that he so wished for.

“If my blood sheds and my head rolls so be it, I don't have anywhere to go nor nothing to lose, I merely have a debt I ask to repay”.

A gleam flashed at the wyverian’s eyes, perhaps they had reflected something… or perhaps not; they were surrounded by magic and mystery. Anyhow, the scholar immediately pulled away, his previous shadiness washed away with the sunshine and gentle gusts of wind that came from the near window; the light now bathed over him, making his hair appear rather blue and his expression seeming concerned, but either if for himself or for the hunter, the ginger could not tell. 

“I must admire your perseverance, but I have no use for a dead hunter”, he said simply turning away to depart once more.

“Please, there must be something I should be able to do for you”, the ginger shouted quietly in an almost broken, pleading, tone.

The other huffed. “All I want are two things. One” — he lifted a clawed finger — “to accomplish my research. And two” — another digit, both forming a v — “a good piece of Lao Shan Lung flesh, and that's something no one would ever serve” — he moved his hand back to resting at his hips. “So, _please,_ do yourself a favour and get going to the hot springs” — he hissed before turning his back to the ginger. “They are right outside; you shouldn't have any trouble finding them. I will meet up with you shortly. Don’t you dare bothering me before that”, he said lastly before going out the room and closing the door behind him, not even giving the hunter time to say anything else.

He didn’t need to hear any more; _he didn’t want to hear any more_. Dealing with humans was already bad enough, _frustrating AND anguishing enough_. He didn’t need a hunter on his tail slowing him down when there was people and monsters alike out there being mercilessly slaughtered_, even less a so peculiar hunter that distracted him so much… _

The wyverian groaned. So many questions popped onto his mind. That gleam after the hunter pronounced these words… _What the heck was that? Merely sunlight reflecting into the ginger’s bracelet?_ _Something completely foreign, unconceivable to mind?!_ _Did he really want to know what that was!?! _No. He didn’t.

To answer these inquiries would mean to observe the test subject in question, and he didn’t like to spend time with people of the hunter’s likes for a reason, _a good reason_. He was alright all by himself and needed of no one.

What he did need to do, though, was to send a letter to Ana and ask her if she knew of any missing hunter since the redhead didn’t seem to be from Yukumo Village. And to say hello. It had been months since last time and probably she would be worrying if any more time went by.

Yes, he would do that, no need to worry that pretty blonde head of hers any longer.

Meanwhile, inside the room, the hunter had the parched-up clothes he would have been wearing not too long ago at hand as he stood in front the mirror; memories of when the scholar first gave him that shirt raised up and, carefully, he glided his fingertips over where he knew — even above the gauzes— that he had been injured… _He had been bandaged back then, just as he was now…_

Eventually, he was led into rethinking about what had occurred, not with the wyverian, but within his dream…

It had felt too real to be merely random images produced by his mind. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel hooks piercing into his skin to leave out in the open his entrails; these hands rummaging throughout his innards, his skull being split apart, the pumping of unknown substances into his bloodstream…

_What did they want from him?..._

The hunter felt himself tremble, an odd burning sensation went through his veins while what felt like steam up his throat but instead leaving his mouth, it clouded his mind; the pressure building up within him growing so high he could any longer hear anything but the deafening sound produced by bowguns’s shooting and the alarms of a facility close to empty which walls from a clean platinum had turned into a vivid red.

The ginger began coughing and curled his fingers around his throat as if they had mind of their own, _were they trying to cease his suffering by themselves? _

_Cease the pain…_

Fuzzy memories of recent events began dissipating the clouds. When he had woken up, he was bandaged and in a cosy bed. _He was safe_. No harm had been done to him whatsoever. He_… he had to be somewhere else, didn’t he?_ He had to do something important.

As fast as it started, it also lasted. The redhead looked around, _just what was he doing?..._

Only the dragon-like youth’s words came to mind.

_“All I want are two things. One, to accomplish my research. And two, a good piece of Lao Shan Lung flesh, and that's something no one would ever serve”._

_Right, he had something to prove._

Information of the monster flashed and skipped through his mind like a book with its pages being carelessly flipped one by one, or perhaps a scroll being unrolled at extraordinary rhythm, and yet he could grasp the meaning of word after word, putting it all back as a whole.

_It would do, _he didn’t even question himself if either it was normal or not, he had other priorities in mind. However, one must find it humorous, he could not remember a thing about who he was, but, somehow, could remember a behemoth like Lao Shan, that — as far he knew — had nothing to do with him.

The hunter put on his shirt and now fully dressed walked up to where his sword rested by the room's entrance, then prepared to leave after straddling the belts of the slinger he had previously used against Lagiacrus around his arm. If he wanted to at least get close to a monster which name literally meant old mountain dragon — with a good reason — who dwelled in the very same terrain of its name sake, he would be needing the little artefact.

The redhead walked out from the inn, not even adverting a gaze to anyone on his path, he had a mission to accomplish in mind. To his luck, all elder dragons such like Lao Shan Lung were what was called a _"once in a lifetime"._ Chances of seeing one of these monsters were scarce, close to impossible, but just as probabilities were low, his hopes and determination were equally as high.

For all the hunter knew, he could have died from his injuries, and yet, he was here thanks to a wyverian whom from all places he met in middle of the forest, and if he had to hunt down a moving mountain to prove said scrivener that he was worth being kept around, that was exactly what he was going to do. He had told the scholar he cared not for the danger and had meant every single word that had left his mouth, he would do it all no doubt, heavens were his witnesses he was a man of word.

As if holy Amatsu — divinity of these lands — had heard his vow, as soon the hunter stepped outside the oriental-styled red gate that marked the little village's entrance, a lead was thrown right at him, or rather, almost run him over, as man with a cart pulled by a Gargwa almost crashed onto him in middle of the rush.

The poor sir immediately ran in panic towards the small village while he screamed the name of the monster that the hunter was looking for, townsfolk replied by encircling the man.

The ginger eavesdropped what few people at the crowd were saying about how the guild had already prepared to take on the monster before it could even near Misty Peaks but for some reason, according to the sole witness (if not counting the Gargwa), it seemed the monster had unexpectedly changed route towards ground unprotected from the guild's jurisdiction.

_Wasn’t he just lucky?_

The redhead stepped up. “Excuse me, sir. Could you please tell where?”.

.....

Meanwhile, the wyverian had just finished writing the letters he would be sending. He had placed them into carefully picked envelopes that he knew his lady friend would love along few tokens he hoped was of her liking as even if he was to go to her village, nowadays it was unsure either or not one would survive; then, he neatly tied the gifts up with a red ribbon that had made him think of her.

He smiled taking pride on his handiwork, all that was left to do was to deliver.

The scrivener opened a near window and looked outside. Wind lifted and carried the fallen leaves of the trees, hot springs’ steam danced along its currents, for a village bound by fate to the storm dragon, Amatsu, this was nothing but a faint spring breeze, nonetheless, it would be a lie saying there was nothing abnormal about the conglomeration of clouds forming at the distance, his guts told him… But it was nothing that should concern the villagers nor him, these lands were protected by the guild’s jurisdiction, and if anything were risking this wonderful place’s safety, the village’s hunter would surely jump into action.

_Yes… Nothing to worry about…_

Resting his elbows at the window’s frame with the little package he prepared for Ana at hand, out of the blue his ears flicked catching the sound of rushed Gargwa steps; it was pulling something... a cart, he deemed. Usually by itself, it would not be much to worry about, that was every day’s stuff; but what troubled him was the ruckus that followed.

A man was screaming about a Lao Shan Lung. _How bothersome..._ A monster of such kind would never approach here, not as long _something_ like him was around, and even if it wasn't the case, someone at the forecaster department would have already noticed it, the guild would already have hunters ready to murder that perfect specimen.

He sighed heavily. _What a waste of meat_.

The wyverian’s mouth watered at the thought of a nice chunk of the monster's ribs. Fresh meat still dripping with blood the same smell as it's red hide, the very same copper colour. Humans made too much of a ruckus about a walking gigantic snack, but well, they had short lives; they probably didn't want any risk into making them shorter than supposed.

Anyhow, it seemed the monster had deviated elsewhere. _Good for them._ Perhaps someday he would be able to find it and sink his teeth on that... but that could wait for later, he had priorities such as sending the letter; the sooner he got rid from that plumpkin head, the earlier he would be able to resume his research.

In times of dire like these, he couldn’t possibly take the luxury of just chill around town with some random hunter he just met, he had to find what… _thing _was behind these recently occurred casualties. For now, that would not be possible, not until he knew what to do with the huntsman.

He started singing a melody that only certain birds trained by the royal palaeontologist scriveners would respond to, he could only hope for the feathered animal to hear it over the commotion although halfway throughout it he had to stop, his ears flicked to caught a voice... was that the hunter's?

“What the f…?”

The wyverian straightened up and poked his head out from the window only to see the crowd had now dispersed and… they were looking at the gate, but why? He could not exactly see if there was something beyond the agglomeration of people.

Without realizing, he leaned further forwards, not the best idea as he fell off the window face-first and got a mouthful of dirt; he wasn’t sure if being at the ground floor made it any less hurtful, as certainly it had been quite a blow to his dignity.

He stood back up and dusted off his clothes, _this day just couldn’t get any better_, or so he thought on his most sarcastic mental remark he could achieve but day was just starting.

By the time the wyverian had walked down the path towards the entrance of the town, most people would have already been gone and after dusting his previously neat clothes in filthy low scum his will to socialize in a scale of zero to ten was about a negative eleven. He prayed to all gods to don’t allow this to happen, to not allow him having to personally ask a resident, but gods had a twisted sense of humour, the incessant chattering had just stopped the moment he walked in. 

Well, fuck. He would have to do it the traditional way and ask. _Fuck you too, gods. Fuck you too. _

He tapped a by-passer’s shoulder, to what the noisy lady replied by screeching like a fucking Yian Kut-Ku and the wyverian could almost swear there went his capacity to hear.

“Oh, sorry, darling!”, the lady apologized.

_Why the fuck was she talking like he was a goddamn child?! _Ugh, he… he didn’t have the time nor patience for this.

“Excuse me, ma’am” — _what the fuck happened? _— he coughed slightly, some dirt still coming off. _Just great… _“What was the whole commotion about?”.

“A poor man was almost crushed by a Lao Shan Lung”.

_Thanks for nothing._

“Just… that?”, he asked trying so hard not to start cussing.

“And a young man left to where the dragon was spotted. He will be probably fine, though! He seemed to be part of the research commission judging by his built and weaponry. What worries me is the other sir with the Gargwa taking him there”.

The way the lady spoke so tranquil just pissed him further and the wyverian himself couldn’t quite tell _why, _which yet again irritated him beyond of what he already was!

He cracked a rigid smile that matched his mood. “Was he about…” — he tip-toed and pulled up his arm the furthest he could and yet couldn’t match the ginger’s height — “Huh… taller than this” — he corrected himself. “And had fiery orange hair? With a scarred eye?”.

“Yes!”, the lady beamed.

And so, the wyverian screeched in panic like the dragon deep inside he was before running back into the Inn and slamming the ginger’s door open to find the room entirely empty. There was no way a hunter, alone, under these conditions, could possibly take on a Lao Shan! _What the actual fuck was the madman thinking?! _

He paced all throughout the room, _what the heck was he supposed to do now?! _He had no idea where that plumpkin head could be at this moment! He couldn’t even hear the Gargwa’s steps! And even if he could, if he went there and pulled the hunter by the hair all the way back here, the situation would just end up worse with a frightened literal moving mountain!

“_What to do, what to do?!”, _he asked to himself as he rapidly tapped his claws against the patches of thin, almost translucid, scales near his cheeks.

_WHAT TO DO?!_

A little voice on his head told him to go, _damn conscience!_ But even if he did, what was he supposed to do?! Risk everything for someone who he didn’t even know?! Get off from his way to fill a hunting request which would take too long into being processed?! There was nothing else he could do!

He clutched at his black locks and bit back a scream, then, between teeth hissed “Get out of my mind, will you?!”, even if deep down he already know the voice won’t shut up until he did something about the hunter, the wyverian tried bargaining with it.

If either or not he was talking to someone on particular, not even he knew, the matt of black that he called hair was such a great mess as that of the mangle that was his mind. 

As the wyverian was trying hard to keep it together, elsewhere, the hunter in question attempted to fulfil his word. The man with the Gargwa had taken him the closest he had been able to and even before the redhead could thank him, they left at such speed not even the dust of the running bird could be seen, however under his boots he could still feel the trembling of the earth and the small pebbles shake.

It was off, but soon did the huntsman realized it wasn’t because of the Gargwa pulling the cart when merely from a faint tremor the movement of the ground dramatically increased. The pebbles started bouncing, from the lined rocky walls bigger stones fell and rolled downhill destroying whatever was on their way.

The redhead was barely able to avoid an upcoming rock that rolled down directly to his way when more stones followed.

Quickly, he used the crossbow-like tool to shoot a hook upwards where it would hang into the branches of a near tree barely in time to dodge being crushed to death. Or so he thought. Oh, how wrong had he been on the idea that it would save him from potentially breaking few bones and it was too late to realize when the earthquake began to worsen which eventually led to the tree's fall merely moments after the stones hit the walls.

Events had a rather ironic turn when he fell on the rocks that would have crushed him and the tree’s trunk was soon to follow him on the fall; luckily thanks to the irregular sizes of the stones, the roles were inversed and now what had been supposed to crush his bones were what saved his them, but the hunter found himself stuck between the wood and the rock; unable to use his sword to chop the tree in two as the weapon was withdrawn and carried at his back.

The ginger sighed and easily pushed off the trunk with sheer brute force. The wood rolled but its movement soon came to an end when it was shattered into chips under a gigantic foot belonging to an elder dragon with rock-hard hide dyed like copper whose size was big enough to compare to a mountain, Lao Shan Lung.

_Thump, thump._

Each step lifted clouds of dust and left footprints well marked on the floor.

The huntsman took deep breathe. Luck was on his side no doubt, the devil had showed up. All he needed to do now was...get... up there and cut down that… thing…

_Yep! Totally easy!_

The huntsman laced one of the monster's spikes much like he had with the tree’s branches, this time, knowing fully well that unlike the plant’s, the monster's sturdy rock-like protuberances wouldn’t fall off.

Even though slow, the monster moved large distances messily due to its size, and with its weight, tremors were made with each step, making it difficult for the hunter to keep up without stumbling every now and then until he was able to hold tight into the rope and began to climb.

The dragon's movement made the hunter slam violently against its rocky shell and lift dust at impact, but just as how it could be used against the ginger, he knew that he could use it at his advantage.

Under normal circumstances, piercing through the monster's shell would be close to impossible without explosives nor an all-powerful carving knife, but the huntsman refused to give up by such trivialities. Wrapping the rope around the metal that was his hand for a more secure grasp, the ginger pressed tight the bottom of his boot against the dragon’s hide and bended his knees, then extended them back to take impulse.

Now, away from the Lao Shan Lung although rapidly nearing once again, the hunter swung himself towards the sentient mountain with branched sword at hand, every single one of these electricity producing tips pointing straight towards the monster’s ribs, right behind its front legs.

With a spurt of blood, if either or not the blade would pierce through became both clear and the least of the huntsman’s problems. The already turbulent journey was about to worsen as, at the face of an unknown danger, the dragon did what any other scared and confused creature would do at the mercy of an unseen peril and sought for a way out even if it meant losing pieces of shell to the rocky walls of mountains on its reckless manoeuvres.

The dragon slammed its side against the mountain’s rocks in attempts to knock off the small beast that sought for its meat, oblivious to the fact that its pain didn’t come from claws nor fangs, but a human-made tool with no life that would only keep digging further the more it attempted to crush it. However, unlike the branched sword, the hunter was sentient, with a bloodstream flowing through his veins and bursting out his wounds due to the harsh impact.

Bones grew cracks and hopes dropped much as himself. But even down and in despair, the hunter refused to stay still with crossed arms, because if there was any chance to understand what happened to him, it got to be with the wyverian. He was who found him, and who nursed him back to health. As far as he knew, that was not much, but still, he bothered to care for him while he could had been hunted down for a reason now unknown towards him.

Still connected to the dragon thanks to the grappling hook and being dragged along a path of rocks digging on his back, the huntsman held onto the rope anew and mustered enough strength to climb it back up.

A piece from that dragon, that was all he wanted, no matter how small, it would be enough to demonstrate he could be of use. Few broken bones were a fair price to pay for remembering small hints to who he was; he had settled his mind into fighting for it until the end with teeth and nail.

A small glimpse of a blue light much like the one he had seen earlier that day while in the wyverian’s company caught his eye; soon skies went dark, wind wild, dirt and rocks alike lifted from the ground and fluttered around, but the spark within the stone at his glove remained in the midst of what seemed the preparations for a storm.

A flake copper in colour fell onto the ginger’s metallic arm and spread its crumbly quality over the surface of the inhuman limb.

“What the-…?”

Strong gusts of wind brushed locks of orange hair away from the ginger’s face. Far above them all, a shadow loomed over them. Both prey and hunter looked up with alarm on their eyes, expectations for the worst high, much as the creature luring beyond the clouds whose roaring winds announced its arrival much like its own battle cry.

On the distance and each millisecond inching nearer, a cyclone given flesh sported a metal armour that now had grown dull with rust, it was no other than the bringer of winds, Kushala Daora, the steel dragon.

Why would a Kushala Daora be around these lands? It was unlike them to dwell in such places and moreover for it to do what it would; the newcomer monster dived in with open maws and ready to tear claws towards the other elder dragon, without a second to lose, fiercely attacking with all it had got: wind, talons, its clawed wings and fangs. It aimed for the neck, piercing through the rock-hard shell into its tender flesh, spurts of blood flew off with the wind produced at Kushala’s presence and splashed against the hunter’s face.

His stomach twisted and revolted, such an uneasy sensation it was for his guts to rumble and sink on themselves while his tongue watered like that of a tired monster. If it was out of repulsion or not the hunter couldn’t quite tell himself, he preferred to go with the idea of the first as even being a supposed hunter, the guilt for harming such a magnificent creature like Lao Shan in such sadistic ways was unmeasurable no matter if the thrill of the blood hastily pumping through his veins was equal to it, but the only undeniable truth was, whether the case, it sent a tingling sensation that made his hands tremble in alike fashion as it had occurred while hunting Lagiacrus.

Much as in that time, his vision began to cloud like the skies above, the darkness inside his mind turning to purple tints of something toxic crawling through his insides, burning them, manifesting itself as an unusual hue at his veins and fingertips. Small patches that eventually ate at his skin with a painful sensation, however unlike that time, there was no one around to help.

All that adrenaline being hurriedly pumped through his veins and yet he felt fatigued; he was breathing heavily, on the cold of the storm, from the depths of his throat foam formed up and left like purple puffs that came out his mouth with each exhale such as drool; the saliva uncontrollable, just as an exhausted monster reacted, but somehow his body kept moving with mind of its own, searching for the blood-stained sword.

He took it out without thinking.

_He was not thinking._

When the sword was plugged out, blood rained, and as it washed over the monster, his mind and sight were obscured by a curtain of red, that much contrasted with the vivid blue of the steel dragon's eyes which in the midst of the elder dragon fight locked into his own, watching right through him and burning into his soul and misted, crumbling down, mind.

He could remember seeing eyes like these before, in a place shrouded in darkness light was not quite what it seemed, it did not bring hope but dread.

There were heartrending screams each time the room lighted up, shadows bringers of nightmares; the pain the creature in question felt, he could feel it too on his own flesh and bone, because it wasn't the only one to have gone through that.

The tears and blood that it shed had once been his own, he remembered how his skin would be pierced and shocked with electricity, the black marks of scorch the volts would leave, the jolts running through his body even after the light had ceased; he remembered laying on the floor, completely unable to move, and receiving kicks and slashes until his inner thoughts had gone as numb as his senses, but before the pain, he remembered had seen them even further into the past.

Before the cracking bones and cries of agony, the sound of fracture had been of a shell and the cries were of a newborn dragon that yet had to harden its armoured hide, and the moment when he saw these bright blue eyes, he had remembered more than just the skies from a place far way where no harm would be done to him nor this small creature he held on arms, he could almost remember someone, but the pieces had all been separated on his shattered mind, and just as it, he was unable to put them back into place.

He felt lost, he did back then and did it yet again now, he could not even tell where he was, was this his mind? Was this a dream? Was this reality?

He had closed eyes and yet could see it all, a vast sunflower field that was so familiar, yet he could not distinct. The flowers were caressed gently by a gust of wind as sunlight bathed over them, the blue sky was completely clear and he could hear birds sing

The young man looked forth, only to see a blinding light and a figure he could not make out that was as puzzling as trying to deduct what was it saying.

He could almost see a person mouthing... a name…

_ C..._

_ L...._

_ ..._

_A person’s name…_

His head could not take it, both mindscape and reality pulled him at opposite sites, it felt like his skull would break open, but then...

_“Claus”_

For an instant, it all fell into place just enough to see a lady's pale pink lips over porcelain skin hidden under brunette locks that fluttered like the sunflower's petals among the gusts of wind before the image — along the lady’s words — vanished into white so bright, even of that of the clouds on the grey sky his eyes met when waking up from the fever dream.

The ginger’s head was spinning, and his body felt heavy and like it had totally disconnected from his mind and now they were separate entities of their own, he could have stayed only looking at the grey cloudy sky as he didn't remember what was he doing there and even less did he knew where he was or what had happened, he merely wished for a moment of rest and enjoying the soft, cold breeze.

Like wind cleared the clouds, tranquillity cleared his mind. Most of his dream was fuzzy to say the least, only vague images came when he tried to focus into them, when…

“Hunter!”, at the distance a voice called out.

_Right... that was why he was here. _He had promised himself to prove his worth to the wyverian by bringing him Lao Shan meat.

The hunter didn’t sit up yet, he didn’t have the energy nor the will to do so; merely did he averted his eyes to check what would the outcome had been; at his hand, his branched sword, and at its sharp ends, pieces of flesh that he did not remember carving but there they were as proof and so did the chunks taken off that lied on puddles of blood.

“Hunter!”, the wyverian called out again breathlessly as he ran towards the huntsman. He had travelled all the way down here the fastest he could — anything for the voices to shut up, _damnit, they could be such a headache!_ — and he regretted it so much! His lungs were too weak for this!

The scrivener took deep breath after catching up with the huntsman, “Do you know how troublesome was coming all the way here?! And for someone I barely know?! And gosh, why is blood everywh- “.

“I hope this can make up for the trouble, though?”, the ginger asked lifting his arm.

Blood slid down the metallic limb, the vivid red made the wyverian's mouth water and his formerly slit-like pupils increase in size until looking like a pair of new moons. Without warning scythe-alike claws snatched the piece of meat and sharp fangs ripped a chunk off.

“Does it make it up?”

The wyverian stopped stuffing his face on the raw meat. Right, the hunter.

Collecting back himself, he parted the meat from his mouth and tried to act again like a prideful civilized being even wiping off the blood from his mouth with the back of his sleeve , “No, but I will take it as an apology”, the wyverian said looking down the hunter before turning his back to him in a much alike fashion to that of a scavenger protecting its rightfully stolen food from smaller carnivores.

He could not help himself but give it another bite_, damn, it was good_.

The ginger conjured enough strength to push himself up, “Would you consider taking it as a proper request of tagging along with you?”.

“Never”, the other replied hastily with a huff.

“There is more from where it came from” the huntsman crooned.

Looking at the wyverian, the hunter could see how his ears perked up. _Good, he had his attention_.

The scrivener internally groaned, he couldn’t believe that he was selling himself over meat... but yet again, he rarely ever had such a dish and it was even rarer the time a complete stranger called his attention... — it had only happened a number of times... he could count them in a single hand and wyverians like him didn’t had as many fingers as humans did. But he couldn’t let the huntsman know that.

“And tell me, how would that benefit me, hunter?”, he asked, shifting his position ever so slightly to look down on the human through the corner of his eye.

The ginger stayed pensive... There was not much he could possibly offer, nothing but his life, and it didn’t seem of much importance to the scrivener, all he had that the other could possibly wish was that meat.

“I could... Slay all the Lao Shan that you desire...”, he tried.

“I want a meal, not a mass extinction” — he said deadpan serious before his tone lightened. “And don’t be silly! A once in a lifetime? I’m not that lucky, up your game”.

“Well... perchance that is out of the table. But…” — he stared at his yet bloodened sword — “What about protection? I could do that”.

Monsters were losing their heads all around, he would give the ginger that... And even when monsters did not usually near him, it was not a rule that all of them exactly followed that pattern, ever since this mysterious outbreak popped up, more wild monsters had been looking for fights unprovoked and already more than enough people had died out there, if he wanted to search for a way to stop it, he would have to put his own security first too...

“Continue”, the black-haired youth said on demanding tone yet barely above a whisper.

“And I’ve noticed that you gotta carry plenty things through long distances...”

“A human packing Gargwa, sounds good”, he nodded with a claw to his own chin.

“And-...” — before he was able to continue, the scholar interrupted.

“Though, there is one question yet unanswered... What do you win, hunter? What are your motives?”, he inquired sounding genuinely curious.

_Was saying not being alone with himself too straight forwards? _

Perhaps....

The wyverian was staring, judging in silence while in the wait for a proper reply.

“To repay my debt”, the huntsman rushed to say in attempt to not sound so desperate.

“I believe these are enough to cover that”, the dragon youth replied with scepticism while gently rocking the steak which had been pierced through with his claws from side to side like a flag.

The ginger winced, he really didn't want to arrive to these heights, but if he had to humiliate himself in order to get what he wanted, so be it.

“I merely seek for company. I have no memories other than my name and ghosts of what happened prior being found by you…” — _so he remembered his name now…_

The ginger paused, averting his gaze in shame of how pathetic he must be appearing. “I have nowhere to go… Nor anyone waiting for me that I can remember… All I have right now are but vague memories that I cannot put back into place no matter how much I try…”

The wyverian hummed. The huntsman didn’t sound like he was lying, and, on his eyes, he could see the ginger spoke truth… “Then, let us make a deal... I wish not for a human stepping on my toes, but I cannot deny I could use your...” — he furrowed an eyebrow as if these words were really that hard to pronounce — “your aid... so...”, he smiled and turned his body towards the man with the scarred eye, “I will allow you to accompany me as long you don't interfere with my research. In return, I shall help you regain your memories if by the time I had reached my destination they haven't returned yet”.

The ginger's eyes opened widely with hopefulness, “W-what? How?! You can do that?!”

A smug smile creeped into the wyverian's face “Of course I can! There is a mysterious place where all your questions can be answered, the tower of illusions” — he purred lashing his tail that was imperceptible as it stayed hidden underneath multiple layers of clothes — “But not everyone knows how to find it, therefore...” — he crooned before leaning forwards and poking the hunter's nose tip with the sharp end of his claw “If you want your share of the deal done, you shall survive my part first. And believe me, it will not be easy”, he purred.

“I accept”, the huntsman rushed to reply.

“I'm planning on going towards the ancient tower. Trip will be long, dangerous, and tedious, you might not even survive it and will die without ever knowing your past. Are you still up to it?”, he warned as last chance for the huntsman to get off from his hair, whether the hunter's reply, it would be a win for the wyverian, but as he looked onto these eyes that burned with determination, he already knew the answer.

“Did I stutter? I said that I accept. Even if my chances are slim, I prefer to die trying”, the hunter said with pride.

_ Hmm, wasn’t he quite naïve?_ How intriguing… but the wyverian could not lie that he was very enthralled about this unusual nameless hunter...

“Then it's a deal”, the wyverian said offering the ginger his hand to take.

The other nodded and took it into a firm grip without a second thought. “Deal, huh-...”, he then remembered, the wyverian had not properly introduced himself and neither had him not even now that he had at least recovered the memories of his own name.

“Ninten. My name is Ninten”, he answered the unspoken question before his grip turned as firm as the huntsman’s.

He smiled and shook the scholat’s hand, “Claus. I’m Claus”.

Ninten couldn’t help but smile back at that reckless and prideful hunter who now had a name. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was so hard abstaining from adressing them by name for 2 chapters! But finally!, THEY KNOW!  
Anyways... before anything else: "Plumpkin" was not a typo, that's a vegetable in Monster Hunter world that works as ingredient for hearty canteen meals, yay!
> 
> Now with that said, welcome back to Bun's hunter notes!
> 
> Today's monster is Gargwa!  
They are small, hervobore, very docile bird wyverns that can be used as livestock, when scared Garwga will leave behind eggs (sometimes, even a golden one! Ain't they cool?!) Here a link for a pic~ https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/monsterhunter/images/3/34/MH4-Gargwa_Render_001.png/revision/latest?cb=20140108055528
> 
> And now for Lao Shan Lung... https://i.ytimg.com/vi/rYzi_2E4S_Y/maxresdefault.jpg  
These big boys are actually like very big cows, they're just minding their own business running away from imminent peril, y'know? They are usually not really big threats to anyone except for the constructions on their way as they are so massive, they won't give a damn about you as a hunter nor our small human buildings. 
> 
> I personally find the fight kinda boring nowadays as it's a constant "senpai, notice me!" and Lao won't give a damn, but it was quite special back then as it was the first monster that you could "mount" and fight it at its own back with explosives, heavy artillery and with the adrenaline of "if I don't finish off this thing, he'll obliterate the fortress and step on many people, holy sh-"! and it was awesome... uvu unlike here! Sorry guys, but there is no such thing out in the wild in grounds outside the guild's jurisdiction! (well, maybe there is... but I doubt they work).  
Anyways! nonetheless how docile these big guys are, in MH lore, there was one time where a Lao Shan killed a hunter's wife and ever since then a group of 5 or more hunters is considered bad luck, thus, only teams of a max of 4 hunters are allowed.
> 
> There was also a mention to Yian Kut-ku, they are brid wyverns as well, but not very important for this story (although I love that monster, in my eyes it is like fighting a giant chicken but less terryfing), all you gotta know is that many consider their screeches annoying (I personally find them funny). 
> 
> That's it, no more monsters! Now clarifications and side notes~ 
> 
> Royal Paleontology Scriveners! (Or simply scriveners bcs I'm lazy):  
Scriveners are part of public organizations, these guys's job consist in the search, study, and observation of the ecologies of various monsters. While in field work, these scholars are well-known to travel in groups! They are protected from monsters by their own personal guards or sometimes by hunters from the guild as well for extra protection. Tho despite this, it is known that a whole group can still be wiped out bcs... y'know, that's nature! :D
> 
> Welp, that's all for today! But just as a side-note... I believe that if you, beautiful reader, have played Monster Hunter or know somehow about the lore, maybe you'd have already noticed by now that Ninten is too off from the wyverian mould... that was completely on purpose, I'm aware wyverians are often more collected, civilized and will overall act more like respectful human beings, but he's not the case... maybe you already know why (;


	6. Mainland arrival!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flying a ship when you don't know how to fly a ship is problematic

Strangely, no major issues had popped on the rider’s way towards mainland. Perhaps the sole trouble resting inside the blonde’s self, this being his insecurity into leaving his hometown and discovering it all had been but a mistake, all these efforts had been for nothing, and his twin was pretty much dead. Though it was not a moment to think into these little, likely, probabilities.

“So!” — Kumatora wrapped her arm around his shoulders — “How’s my favourite Lucas doing?”

He smiled, “Kumatora, I’m pretty sure that I’m the only Lucas you know”.

“Well”, she shrugged “Yes, but that makes you my favourite by default, ain’t it?”.

“I guess”.

“C'mooon! Don't act so gloomy, buddy! This is a thrilling new adventure! Ain't you excited?! Think on all the new monsters! New lands!” — she gave the blonde that teasing smile of hers and poked his cheek— “And even maybe a new lass”.

Lucas's cheeks flared and he immediately looked away, “Oh, no- no. Nothing of that”.

Kumatora raised an eyebrow, “Then lads?”

“N-no!”, he rushed to say with a jolt.

“Hey, I won't judge, bro”, Kumatora interrupted.

“I just want to find Claus!” —Lucas resumed. “That's all...”

“And we _will_ find him!”, she replied confidently. “We’ll arrive to the city, hire a big bad hunter, and we will be back at Tazmilly faster than what you can say “— she paused. “Hey, did you feel that?”, she asked sensing a small tug at her seat.

“What kind of expression is th-?”

Suddenly, the lights turned red and a noisy alarm resonated through the ship— “HOLY SHIT, WHAT'S THAT?!” — she screamed at getting startled. “Wait! We have heard that before! - “she started upon realization with newfound calm and brought a finger to her cheek. “But! If it meant good news for us when freeing monsters from pigmask’s filthy hands... and now we are using their stuff..."

Lucas’ face drained of all colour. “Oh, no…”

Soon, much as his partner, the pink haired rider came to the horrible realization “SHIT! We are fucked! We are gonna die!”

“What?! I thought you have said that everything would be alright!”

“Aw! C'mon! You know I say many things!”

“KUMA!”

“Got it, got it, this is not the time but- Shit! Help me think on something!”

“I don’t even know what the problem is!”

“Think!”

“Help me!”

“I felt a thug, like when I drop from Diavolo for fun and- holy crap... We are gonna crash and die! How do we fix this?!”

“Do you know what this thing runs on?!”, he asked thinking fast and trying to compare it with the little knowledge he could have.

“What?”

“It could be wind energy or perhaps charcoal or-!”

“Or monster bones!”

“Who would make fuel out of bones?! The amount of carbon produced on the hypothetical process would heavily pollute the environment not to mention it would be unsustainable using non-renewable sources on the long run! They would eventually meet a shortage and-!”

Kumatora groaned, interrupting him. “Man, I have no freaking idea! I was just trying to help!”

However, an idea occurred to the blond: if monsters could get energy from other living beings like bugs... then would it be too farfetched to keep this thing afloat with monsters?

“Kumatora! You are a genius!”

“Of course I am, but we gotta think more in how to stay alive and less in bonding!”

“No!- well, yes, but I meant-…” — he sighed. “Just follow me”

The duo attempted their best to go back to the boarding area, every now and then slipping and hitting against the walls as they fought the ship's turbulence.

“Luke, what have you got on mind?”

“Remember that one time when we went to a felyne village where everyone was named Mr. Saturn and they insisted that they were _‘fishing’_ wingdrakes?”

“I doubt we have time to fish thousands of these little dudes!”

“That's why we are fishing something bigger”, Lucas said turning to see his monstie, a lime green bird wyvern: Qurupeco.

“Luke!”

“I doubt our monsties can compete with this thing's weight plus that of three deviljhos not to mention our other monsters uncapable of flight, we gotta try”

“Can’t we just jump?!”

“Let’s leave it as last resource, we are still above sea and Ceadeus knows what’s under”, Lucas said before handing her heavy metal chains that were laying around, courtesy of the pigmasks who were trying to profit with the wild monsters. The blonde trusted these would be more manageable for the pink haired rider than what they would ever be for him.

“You must be kidding”, Kumatora said still on scepticism.

Lucas whistled, Qurupeco immediately rushed to his side. “I'm not. I trust you can do it, I will distract whatever comes with 'Peco here, and you will make sure that it doesn’t worsens the scenario”, he told Kumatora leading the bird towards where they had come from and pulling the lever. The current of wind was strong, one wrong step and they would be sent flying off.

The blonde rider brushed his hair away from his face and climbed onto the bird. He patted the Qurupeco's neck, thanks to their strong connection the rider didn’t have to say a word, Qurupeco knew what it must have to do and trusted their human caretaker with the success of their mutual task.

Balancing on a single foot, Qurupeco cocked its head from side to side before throwing it back, its yellow crest at the top of its head and red vocal sac had inflated to produce a call that mimicked a monster's cry.

At the distance, something big was approaching, Lucas nor Kumatora could tell what this monster swimming on the sea of clouds was exactly, but there was no space for doubt that it was angry.

“That's our signal. Let's go, Peco”.

With no more time to waste, the monster jumped from the hangar, rapidly gliding and flapping its wings as whatever it had summoned inched closer.

Behind them, red clawed wings ripped the clouds apart, a hard shell sliced the air currents, a mouth full of vermillion flames adverted them of how dangerous it had been to summon him: the king of skies, Rathalos. With a blood-chilling roar worthy of the King title, the red lion made its entrance.

The blond's heart raced, he knew a Qurupeco was no match for the king, but he trusted on his friends. Lucas tightened his grip on the bird wyvern's reins and cued it to near the Rathalos.

Only thing keeping them apart from these ferocious maws was the curtain of clouds that Rathalos soon cut through in an attempt to bite off the bird wyvern's head.

Qurupeco dodged with a tug at its reins and the blond rider led it towards the falling aircraft. “Kumatora!” 

At the airship, the pink haired rider turned at her monstie, a tigrex. “Squalo! Come over here!”. As soon the monster stepped up, Kumatora shoved the end of the chains into her Tigrex's maws. “If I slip, I'm counting on you to bring me back here, got it? Luke needs us!”, she explained to the wyvern with determination igniting at her eyes.

Tigrex nodded and firmly sat down with the chains at his maws and claws to assure not losing its grip.

The wild Rathalos was at Qurupeco's tail when the pink haired rider jumped to his back

“Sorry, buddy, but we will be needing of your aid, you want it or not”, said the pink haired rider tying the chains around the Rathalos's snout as a muzzle and soon after shaking the burning sensation off from her hands as the wyvern's raging vermilion fire had heated the metal.

The rathalos struggled and snaked his head in attempts to shake off the rider and whatever she had tied around his beak, his fruitless efforts redirecting towards taking impulse when said pink haired girl pulled on the chains as easily as reins and the monster shot upwards with the might that only a full grown Rathalos had.

From afar, Lucas saw with relief how Rathalos gave that tug needed to at the very least make it into firm earth until his momentary peace was cut short when he noticed in horror the metallic chains growing redder despite the temperature's drop due to the altitude.

“Qurupeco!”, he shouted pulling at the reins just the same moment the chains gave up and shattered into bits of melting metal and Kumatora engaged into free fall. “Kumatora” — he gasped and lashed into the reins but soon heard his friend’s voice.

“I've got this, Luke! No worries!”, she reassured.

In question of seconds, even before the blonde could near her, the pink haired rider turned around and forced her eyes open to see her Tigrex diving towards her. From inches underneath, she held onto the leather strands once the monster had neared close enough and with a twist of her hand she was at the monster's back.

“Good job, buddy!”, she beamed patting her monster at his thick neck. She then turned up to see her partner in crime, “See? I told you! All cool!”

“Except for that!”, he screamed on slightly trembling voice as he pointed towards the airship.

One of the monsters that had been tied to maintain the ship afloat, enraged, had broken their boundaries to fight the Rathalos, and now the aircraft fell faster than ever. Diablos thrusted in heads first, Rathalos easily dodged and countered with a fireball at its sides.

“Diavolo, let it be! Go back to your place!”, the monster's rider shouted but it had been deafened by rage

Kumatora looked at Tigrex “I know you are not the best at flying, but we gotta do something!”

“We will do something”, she heard her friend besides her.

“Will a Qurupeco and a Tigrex really succeed?”

“There is only one way to find out”

Both monsters tugged at the bits of chain left to do the job of a Diablos with not much success, Qurupeco was not as strong and Tigrex was not as good flying, the ship was quickly falling but at least thanks to the Rathalos that now was being distracted by an enraged Diablos, they had gained enough altitude to go pass the deepest parts of the ocean.

The ship crashed loudly against the body of water, splashing everywhere and making big enough waves for poor innocent Epioth that were peacefully swimming to be hit and rolled over but unharmed in general.

After the flying monsters landed, the riders looked up, no sign of Rathalos for the moment. They dismounted their respective creature, the water reached pass their chests, but they could reach the sandy sea floor.

Lucas walked to the backside of the ship and knocked on the door that opened the hangar. “Boney, open up, buddy! We’ve arrived to mainland... kinda”, he said; the last shyly, mostly to himself.

He immediately jumped out from the way when the door swung open and the canine monster happily hopped around like a Kelbi, his tongue dangling from his snout and splashing everything on his path, including his rider.

Lucas giggled before the enormous animal happily pounced on him, pushing the blonde to the sandy soil but he was soon to reemerge with a gasp. “Buddy, calm down!”, the rider said moving his soaking wet hair away from his face, the dog licked all over it. “Yes, I’m happy to see you too! But you will scare off your dragon bugs”. Yet the Zinogre kept to act like a pup that hadn’t seen his owner on years.

“Alright, Boney. Sit”, Lucas said with a gesture of his hand, the palm extended and facing down.

Boney on his part, did as his rider had commanded and sat down on the water, tail yet wagging and tongue dangling out from his snout.

“Talk”.

He barked a couple of times, but he was actually saying that they could talk any time the owner wished.

“OH! Ohhh! Now play a man on his mid-thirties who forgot paying the mortgage!”, Kumatora tagged in along her monsters and the rest of Lucas' team.

Boney stood up on his hind legs, walking erect as any other human before dramatically falling with a paw to his forehead.

Kumatora hummed. “Very dramatic, I will give you points for accuracy, but you lacked anxiety”.

Boney, groaned but his disappointing didn’t last long as soon contentment overtook when his rider reached out for his pouch and tossed a Mosswine jerky at him which the Zinogre easily caught between his maws.

“How did you even train him to do that?”, Kumatora asked astonished.

“He's just a natural”, Lucas shrugged it. “Anyways, we better get this ship mov-“

A roar made him flinch in place, far above on the sky, Kumatora's Diablos crash-landed at the shallowest part of water and before the riders could rush to its aid, Rathalos cut through the clouds and emerged within them, on its rage, he shot a fireball straight to the airship which burst on a deafening explosion of flames and light.

Satisfied with his work, Rathalos nodded and left in the midst of chaos as a dark liquid that reflected the colours of the rainbow had leaked out the ship and spread on the water, along it, the flames and sudden combustions.

Kumatora turned to see Lucas, her hands covering her ears although hesitantly moving slowly out the way and parting from her skull once only sound was the cracking of fire. “Hey, at least we won’t have to move it to the shore”.

Lucas's stare was completely blanc in horror and so was his skin. “We are stranded here”, he muttered.

“No, no, we are just... huh-... just here, enjoying a great time!”.

“We are stranded”, he repeated, his hands pulling at his blonde locks and his voice more panicked each time.

Kumatora immediately wrapped an arm around his shoulders and brought him closer, “No, no. Don’t start thinking like that, we made it to mainland! So hurray for us! That was the difficult part, so... no worries! We will go to the city, and we will carry our plans as expected, I will just add finding a way back in my to-do list!” — she beamed “Everything will be fine!”

“Nothing's fine”, he uttered embracing himself.

“C'mon, you will forget that once you taste the city's food! I bet you are hungry!”.

“I feel like throwing up”.

“You will feel better when you take a break at the inn's beds! We haven’t slept properly in days with that little travel...”

“That sounds nice”, he admitted after thinking it little. Yes, he missed sleeping peacefully on his own bed, no turbulence nor machine sounds, nor anything, just a nice cosy bed and him.

Kumatora smacked the blonde's bottom, getting a high-pitched “Eek!” from him. “Awesome! Then get these movin'! It's a long walk there!”

They had a long way to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my hunter’s notes, aka. Where I cry because it is difficult for me to leave things short <:  
Today’s monsters are Qurupeco and Rathalos!
> 
> Qurupeco as stated, is a small bird wyvern. It has flintstones appendages at the wings which they use to create sparks, boom, fire! Pecos can mimicry monster’s calls and lure them to the same area, as them. Things are all chill until they summon an evil Jho! :’D *cries in war flashbacks* 
> 
> As for Rathalos, this guy is like the pikachu to Monster Hunter, he’s like the face of it and you can even see him as representative of MH on smash bros as a boss! They excel at aerial combat and all of them are male since their female counterpart is called Rathian, but that’s a story for later. 
> 
> Anyways, I think I’ll be including few EB/Mother notes just in case but I don’t think they are very required just yet…  
That’s all, thanks for reading <3 I swear I’m making the pretty boi justice later, it’s not yet his time to shine.


	7. Red afterglow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!:D I hope this year is better for y'all and may you stay safe!♡

Ninten sighed. Day was just beginning, and he was already tired. He had just finished a handful of tasks: he had sent letters to Ana, replenished enough supplies for the travel towards his lady friend’s hometown, acquired few new items for both the huntsman and himself — because no way in heaven nor Earth that he was sharing his stuff with him — between them a handful of portable steam bombs —they were life savers — but there were few things that he was yet to get done… Like preparing in body and mind for the worst… a rejection letter included.

Ah, there were just so many little details that could lead to ruin, deception and a spiral of despair, but he knew that control was something he would never quite have over the situation. Who cared? At least he had his stomach full — thing that he could not say so often — and the ginger was most likely not going to be of trouble as long as he stayed at the hot springs for the time being…. Which remind him, perhaps it had already been long enough, maybe the hunter was already ready to go by now, it was for the better to get things done the soonest possible.

The wyverian, with the stealth of a preying wyvern, snaked into the inn’s lobby to stalk through the main door at the near hot springs. He could see many people, but none was his target, he didn’t even have spare time to get angry nor worried about the huntsman before said ginger made him almost jump out from his skin by inadvertently sneaking on him to tap at his shoulder.

Oh, how did the ginger regret not calling the wyverian out first, the pipsqueak screeched at such a high volume that even a Tigrex or Diablos would feel ridiculed in comparison! As any other hunter — or half sane person able to hear — Claus flinched before covering his ears, hoping for — after he removed his hands — not finding any blood smeared over his skin.

“What was that for?!”, the ginger complained after the scholar’s lungs had finally ran out of air.

“You startled me!”, the wyverian barked in high-pitched tone after turning to the huntsman.

Few hunters that had been previously enjoying a nice time of relaxation rushed into the inn, only bath towels around their waists and weapons at their hands to which the inn’s receptionist sprinted to call off with a mere signalling of hands, not the hunter nor the wyverian noticed.

“Don’t go sneaking on people like that!”, Ninten scolded.

“What? I wasn’t trying to sneak on you!”, Claus defended himself.

“Oh?” — Ninten asked, raising an eyebrow as he placed his hands over his hips— “Then why, y’know… Did completely the opposite!”

The hunter took deep breathe. _Stay calm. Stay calm…_

“Because I’m done changing, just as you asked me to!” — he answered perhaps a little too harsh. Definitely not what he wanted, but it seemed to get the job done nonetheless.

The wyverian’s ears perked up and he eyed the hunter from head to toe; the ginger was sporting the Lagiacrus armour that he had requested for him. Usually, he would have just let the hunter decide, since he had been who slayed the monster, but since they had agreed upon traveling together, the hunter was most likely going to need it for the journey after his late amour was _wrecked_ — to put it into kind terms.

Ninten faked a cough — like it would aid him into regaining his composure. “So, you are ready to depart”. How lucky he was that the scales on his cheeks kept concealed the blood that had rushed to his face out of embarrassment while the loose clothing his inwards curled tail.

Claus remained silent and simply nodded, tilting his head slightly to point at the great sword sheathed at his back. It bothered the wyverian how the hunter would move with such stiff, mechanic motions and how from seeming like any other person, out of nowhere, he would shift to a blank gaze that seemed almost devoid of life… but well, perhaps he had just been trained like that when on duty.

Deciding to not duel much on it any longer, Ninten sighed. “Then we better get going. Just let me grab my hunting horn”.

The wyverian gave few steps forwards, soon to be stopped by his weapon of choice at the ginger’s hand. And Ninten’s first reaction was to snap at him.

Snatching his hunting horn and immediately bringing it closer to him as protectively as how fairy tale dragons would with their treasures, he barked half-heartedly “Don’t touch that!”

The wyverian tried to sound angry, he wanted to be, but the way his partner shifted on his overall demeanour discouraged him, even more so when the ginger apologised. Monotone, cold as ice yet when Ninten could tell he had meant it…

_His training as hunter, _he had to remind himself. That was probably it. Even beautiful sweet-darling Ana could be scary when she was on duty. Of course, she was a knight, but even his sisters, Mimmie and Minnie, though yet trainees — or at least they were last time he checked — could be quite intimidating when they desired; but of course, these little hell spawns were his sisters, and seeing their tantrums was _way _scarier than watching how they gutted an animal.

However, he could not lie that he would always prefer a fervent reaction over a soulless, machine-like one which coldness chilled his very bones…

Ninten shuddered before shaking his head. There were things to do! There was no time for-… whatever that had been! He huffed. “Let’s just get going before it’s too dark and Nargacuga start hunting you instead the other way around”.

With a whip of his tail, the wyverian turned and led the way.

Outside the inn, they could hear murmurs everywhere, people talking, seemingly scared, but Ninten ignored them all, it was probably because he had screeched just like how a monster would; valid, but it was not anything that was new to him nor that he wanted to hear.

As for Claus, he was sure that he had lived something like this… He could swear that, at some point in life, he had seen people as scared as that, murmuring in groups, distress painted all over their faces, but it felt like such a distant thing… like if it had been but a dream full of faceless people that no matter how much he tried, he could not give any feature to them…

Perhaps it had only been a dream to him, but the horror on these people’s faces as they were to leave the village… _It was not._

“Don’t you think there’s something wrong?”, Claus asked to the wyverian.

“Of course, there are many things wrong. If there weren’t any, I’d be on Dundorma instead, and even there, multiple things are wrong because _certain people _are too stubborn to move elsewhere. Dunno, perhaps we won’t get constantly attacked by elder dragons if we did”, the wyverian complained, pouting and crossing his arms over his chest.

“I meant here”, the ginger clarified.

“There’s an unknown plague out there, hunter. You can’t blame them for being mortified, just cope with it”.

With nothing more to say, the duo walked out the gate, leaving the security of the village behind and venturing into the dense mountain’s dangerous forest.

Long passed before they were deep inside the woods. Leaves fell gracefully to the floor and water streams cascaded as fine strings from the rocks, the forest was peaceful… perhaps a little too much. Not even could birds be heard, nor fishes swimming and splashing on the water, not even bugs nor any Neopteron; the area was straight out dead quiet.

Surely, often, when he was around, there would be not much movement. Life itself would avoid him the best it could, but at the very least he would be able to hear something on the distance, whatever it was. So be it birds flying away in fear, bugs scrambling to hide, or the rushed steps of monsters leaving the near area. It all seemed like every creature was long gone…

Ninten focused into attempting to hear the surroundings, aside the wind, water, leaves and their own footsteps, not much could be heard. The wyverian turned to see the ginger’s steps, sturdy and rhythmic, he marched…

That was unusual.

Perhaps could he had been on a high rank? He seemed too young for that, but… Ana was probably younger, and she had already been a guild’s knight for quite a while. If a high rank was the case, that would explain why he had a slinger; maybe he had been chosen to be part of the research commission, which, too, would explain why he was able to carry not one but two weapons at the same time, such strength was not found everywhere, he must be quite the specimen… Usually even a trained hunter’s capabilities would be restricted by just one weapon’s weight. Or maybe it could be thanks to his metal arm, but he doubted it was _just _so, there was more to it than a mere mechanical limb, but it didn’t make Ninten stop questioning how would the hunter have lost his flesh arm on first place.

Perhaps it had been during a quest, it was the most viable option. The higher the rank, the more danger the guild would put you in even if they compensate it with an otherwise quiet life and luxuries. And, well, there had never been such a great communication inside the guild’s quarters, that would explain too why, if the redhead was to be a high rank inside the guild, he, nor anyone around Yukumo, had any idea of whom he was.

Ninten sighed, not yet feeling more tranquil with the environment but yes with the huntsman. _It had to be it_. Or something of the likes at least, but at the same time what made him nervous was… what if all the vacancies for the next fleet had already been taken?

If they were taking in _only _people as prepared and exceptional as this hunter…

He winced with uneasiness, he had given his best to make it in, he had learned so much in order to go and-…

_No_. He shook his head, he was not going to worry until he arrived at Snowman.

Trying to clear his head, he looked around. At the distance, the skies were turning the same colour as the hunter’s hair; sun would be setting soon, the wyverian deemed, and it meant Nargacuga would be up to the hunt.

Taking off his backpack, Ninten set it on the floor besides a large tree which roots conventionally shaped a concave space underneath. “It’s time to set a camp, hunter”, he told the redhead.

Claus did not question the time. “Here?”, he merely asked.

Ninten nodded. “Yeah. Right underneath the tree’s roots should be fine. Most dangerous monsters around here shouldn’t be able to fit, plus, it provides sturdier shelter from bigger nocturnal monsters”.

The ginger nodded and bowed to crawl underneath the tree’s roots, but just before it, he was stopped.

“Oh, and as an extra note…”— Claus turned, hearing the wyverian call — “Be kind with spacing”.

The other nodded. It would be awkward otherwise, not to mention that they were yet strangers and he could see why the wyverian was concerned over that one small detail. 

With clear instructions, the ginger proceeded to do as requested. It was not even much what he had to do, merely placing a piece of fabric at the dirt and then the sleeping bags.

As Claus prepared everything at the burrow, Ninten placed the BBQ spit. He usually only used it as light and heat source when traveling alone since he couldn’t care less if the meat he got his claws into was raw or cooked, however, now he was _not_ traveling alone and probably the hunter didn’t had as peculiar tastes as he had. Usually, his kind would go crazy over well-done steaks and would have mastered it much like another hunting art or a weapon itself.

In all honestly, he was far from that. He was not even good at cooking, he either burned it to crisps or left it raw… or made some unholy stuff that his sisters would complain about it being “nightmare fuel”, before proceeding to do something equally as cursed themselves.

Just how was one supposed to cook? He was too stubborn to ask and even more so into maintaining his stuff to himself to let the huntsman do it himself.

If few days ago he had offered him perfectly cooked meat, was because he had happened to make a stop-by on a little town not long ago and decided for buying some since usually smaller monsters like Gargwa or Aponoth would run away from him the moment he set foot on the area, but that had been all, he needed rations as well, however… he couldn’t help but think that if there was a reason why he was getting rejected, it would be over his cooking…

“Grr…”.

_No!_

He shook his head. _NO!_ _That. Was. Not happening!_

Ninten looked into his backpack. Some portable steam bombs, inhaler just in case, nullberries… Ah, there was the meat.

Aside the Lao Shan meat, there was certainly a little more than enough Aptonoth meat that he had traded to try the BBQ spit a few times…

He hummed. _How bad could the outcome be anyways?_

After finishing settling everything at the burrow, Claus sniffed. Something smelled awfully like burning corpses… Not that he had any idea of how he knew said foul odour, but he was sure of it.

Crawling out the den, he was met with a pile of huge pieces of charcoal that somehow bled and Ninten swinging a lighted steak like a hammer, the flames finally dying out when he threw water at it.

“Dinner’s ready”, he said, empty stare and hair as messy as the disastrous cooking.

…

Claus had been uncertain about it at the start, but once pass the gritty charred bits, meat was rather okay… before turning chewy again, but if he just ripped it off from the bone and gobbled it down instead trying masticating it, it was fine, even great; blood added a nice flavour to it, he had to admit. Well-done steaks had their charm, but so did this. He couldn’t even begin to understand why he was okay with such an — initially — unappetising snack, but perhaps his gears were just beginning to tick into the conclusion that he was an odd one.

_Still better than not knowing himself at all… _

Ninten sprang up from his seat. “Welp! Time to sleep. Good night, hunter!”, he beamed.

He seemed in a much better humour after eating, so Claus decided to take the opportunity and see how much he could push his luck; if he was to be traveling with someone, he wanted to get to know them better. Who knew? Perhaps, while he was on it, he could learn a thing or two about himself too.

“So soon?”, he asked in attempt to break the ice.

“Yep!”, Ninten nodded, not adding anything else other than “We made good progress today, so I’m kinda tired”.

“Oh”, Claus said simply. Unsure if he should continue with his idea or not.

Ninten whipped his tail, growing impatient. _Was he going to talk or not?_ And why did he care if the hunter wanted to say something?!

“If you won’t add anything- “, he was cut off.

“I was thinking. Maybe we could talk and get to know each other”, the redhead said almost as a question.

“That’s hilarious coming from the person who doesn’t even know himself”, Ninten replied with a smirk and another whip of his tail.

_Welp, that had been uncalled for._

It was clear he was just poking fun, part of the ginger wanted to drop the idea and counter the remark, but the other... just did not feel like it, in fact, it was quite numb, it did not wish to fight who was somehow like his superior at the moment.

“Then tell me more about yourself. I have noticed… you stare at my arm quite often. Is it of interest to you?”, Claus asked, favouring what he though as his more rational side.

Since the moment they first met, the wyverian had seemed quite attentive to the apparatus… Could it lead him to any information about himself? Perhaps the dracontine youth had not said anything about it because he hadn’t asked personally. Of course, he had supposed that he was a hunter, but maybe there was more to it for such a rapid conclusion, or even maybe, could there be something else that the wyverian had noticed.

For a split second, Claus could see Ninten’s hair bristling and his posture stiffening, just as how an anxious animal would do to make itself appear bigger at the face of threat, but then he began to relax. “Yes, only hunters from the research commission get slingers”, he started — _Could he have something to do with this research commission?_ — the wyverian continued “Naturally, it would call my attention. I wish to someday travel to the New World”, proudly he added, puffing his chest and chin tall. “And I will! I just need to…” — however, he soon stopped.

Ninten’s spirit dropped at the feeling of anxiety crawling once again up his spine, its effects showing on the position of his ears and tail. Only elite members were chosen! There were many people that wanted a place on the next fleet just like him…!

Truth it was that he had trained on different fields with Ana, Lloyd and Teddy’s help, but he was not fearful of failing his test by itself, no… He was fearful of never going to New World. He was scared of never seeing his father again, whom had gone there and now was missing and presumed dead, he feared upsetting him and his wish for him to go to these distant lands and also upsetting his friends since it would mean all their work training him would have been for nothing, and to make things worse, Lloyd himself was most likely going since he was a renowned royal scientist! Both had made a promise years ago to go together on the same fleet, and Ninten refused to let his friend down, especially for what was at risk, not to mention his personal affairs with the other continent and _what_ was there.

There was just so much weight on his shoulders and Claus noticed_. Damn, he shouldn’t have asked…_

“Ninten?”, he called out, hesitantly reaching to him.

He snapped out of it. “I just need to sleep for today”, he resumed.

“I’m sorry”, Claus apologised.

Ninten laughed it off, “For what?” — he didn’t wait for a reply — “Good night. Don’t let the fleas bite you”.

After these words, the wyverian curled the tip of his tail around his backpack’s straps — careful not to accidentally cut the fabric with his spikes — and dragged it along as he crawled into the den, disposed to have a good night of sleep and not wake up until way late after the sun’s rise; he unstrapped his boots, they were killing him! But of course, he was too stubborn to use anything else since he knew any softer footwear would end up shredded to pieces and anything done for wyverians like him, he just wouldn’t like. 

He huffed, mentally cursing his dragonhood but being too tired to actually give a fuck about it. 

The wyverian shoved the backpack to separate his side of the den from the hunter’s in a poor attempt to make some privacy for himself. Soon after the deed done, he was fast asleep. He was one of these people who could go on sleeping for days if so desired, but the night had other plans for him; it did not want him to rest, nor to at the very least have a time at peace, no, his whole plans came crashing against him as a heavy body hit against the three’s trunk, which made him jolt awake merely few hours after he had closed his eyes.

Ninten immediately sat up and looked around, although with the moonlight the wyverian could see alright even underside a three’s roots, an ebon mist of sorts obstructed his sight from seeing beyond, but he could yet make out that the hunter’s sleeping bag was empty, it did not even seem like if it had been used to start with, and the near smallest vegetation had turned black and withered away.

“Hunter?”, he called quietly, strapping on the backpack while crawling out from the den, a faint odour of death and blood becoming more evident as he moved underneath the tree’s roots.

By the entrance of the burrow, a big splutter of blood had been painted against the trunk, the liquid yet dripping fell over the wyverian’s face. It was still warm, the creature responsible for it was not too far away. 

He looked at his surroundings, trees had deep gashes on them, and at the one they had taken shelter, there was his hunting horn, but the huntsman’s great sword was nowhere to be seen until deeper into the woods, Ninten saw sparks and flashes that he remembered had seen before at the Lagiacrus’s fight; wherever the electric shocks went, two thin trails of red light followed; they were too apart from each other to be from the same monster, and one was always close to the sword’s lighting, Ninten began to panic. _Was the redhead fighting two Nargacugas at once!?_

The wyverian took his hunting horn, and against every scale of common sense that he had on his body telling him that it was a bad idea, he rushed into the woods shrouded by the black mist.

Under the thick foliage of the threes, close to no light could pierce through, the little or less that could sneak in promptly met its end when they neared the dark clouds that blended with darkness itself. Ninten was blind, unable to see anything but the fast-moving red afterglow produced by the Nargacuga’s bloodshot eyes; growls, hisses and roars came from the shadows and just as quickly disappeared into them with rustles of leaves. Before losing the trail, only was the wyverian able to identify a single Nargacuga even if the glow said they were at least two.

It could be his imagination, he supposed. Not giving it much thought, Ninten proceeded to try tracking down by sound how they moved. Leaves cracked under them and thunder clacked, blood spilled into the floor, the smell of fresh wounds lingered in the air as a stench; he was aware of every sound and smell, yet, he could not spot where the Nargacuga had gone.

Using his hearing had never been so difficult with his own heartbeats ringing on his ears and throat. He pondered why; it was not like him to feel such a rush… but there was an unusual feeling about all of this, one he would describe as a profound dread that could chill one to their very core, but on situations like these, where lives were at risk, there was no time to lose, the monster had to be either repelled or slayed as quickly as possible before…

Ninten flinched at a wet, meaty sound under his boots. Slowly, he lifted his foot and stepped away. He didn’t need to lean closer to sniff the blood nor brains that had poured out the head with the skull now cracked; neither to smell the flesh that had been teared apart, he needed to near the lifeless body to inspect it; he could not find any trail of venom scent on it, but yes another aroma he could not quite tell…

He placed a clawed hand against it. First the cracked skull, thin but with sturdy horns, the eyes had popped out and so had the brains, part of the jaw remained; an herbivore, he judged by the teeth. Then, a long neck covered by short pelt that became longer as it reached the creature’s chest that, although now lacked a heartbeat, the warmth lingered after death. This male Kelbi had been an unlucky one to be at a Nargacuga’s path, especially since his assassination had been in vain. Though teared apart, every single piece of him was still there. He had not been eaten; he had been murdered on cold blood, strange, since all hints lead to his killer being a wyvern whose main diet consisted in these. 

But there were so many things off still…

The blood was thick, but the corpse was _not _cold. If the Kelbi had been murdered already a while ago, it made no sense that it was yet warm, and if it had been recently, why would the blood be coagulated? Why would it be here to start with? It would have run away the moment he came into the area. It neither had been poisoned to contribute the clotting to it, but there was an unfamiliar smell to it. It was not the smell of rotting, Ninten was too familiarized with that stench after growing up on a small town with a cemetery too big for anyone’s liking. No… this was something else.

But the wyverian had no time to process the possibilities as, soon, he heard growling not far away from him. Ninten immediately turned only to be greeted by the red afterglow of the monster and air whistling that ended at a sharp pain stinging his arm.

A yelp escaped his mouth as reflex to the dart that had burrowed into his flesh, the wyverian was only beginning to understand the depth of his mistake when an enormous beast of thick black fur pounced him to floor.

His hunting horn had been knocked away from the wyverians’s reach, sharp claws dug into his arms, making the smaller dragon screech in pain and blood burst as the venom acted up as anticoagulant.

The Nargcacuga tried to dive in to bite off its prey’s face, but even when rapidly bleeding to his death, Ninten was not willing to give up without a fight; he tried his best to avoid the bigger monster’s maws with anything he could, he latched his tail at the Nargacuga as if it was a spiked whip and clawed with his toes at the flying wyvern’s underside until one of the scythes he had for nails became stuck into something he couldn’t quite tell, it was not anything that belonged to the Nargacuga, else he would have long ago felt its blood streaming down his legs, but it was not the case.

Before, he could pull his legs to himself to cut whatever his claws had hooked, Ninten’s vision became blinded with a spurt of the monster’s blood to his face and the weight of the wyvern was no more, but it was yet near as he could hear roars and hisses. _Something_ had pushed away the Nargacuga off from him, and whatever it had been… it could only be worse.

Ninten rolled back into his feet, his head was spinning and ached like hell, he could barely focus, but he managed to snatch his hunting horn as he stood up and shaking off the excess monster blood on his face; he would need both weapon and vision since Kirin knew what had engaged into the fight, but he could also need to assure that he will not bleed out on the process as the lack of oxygen traveling through his system was beginning to make a number on him.

With shaky hands, he retrieved a steam bomb from his backpack and activated it. The cure-all made it even harder to see, he already had enough trouble remaining conscious enough to protect himself, but that was not stopping him. Not yet at least. The raven-haired youth shifted his sight quickly from one place to another in desperate attempt to find what lurked in the shadows although dizziness and a blurred sight fought against him.

On the floor that had turned into mud and gained a metallic quality to its smell, near where the Nargacuga had pinned him, he could see a discarded, worn saddle that looked like if it had seen better days, but he had no interest on where it had come from — not for the time being at least — he was more worried about _where_ was the Nargacuga and _WHAT _had pushed it off from him, both questions soon meeting their answers when the wyverian turned at a cacophony of growls and cries.

From the silhouette, Ninten could tell the Narcacuga lied on its back, struggling to get back up as gore spurts erupted from its flesh, the blood falling like rain and being lashed back and forth with every stab the monster took from a cracking with thunder sword that the wyverian _knew_ belonged to the redhaired hunter whose eyes — although misted by the curtain done by the steam bomb — glowed with a bloodlust akin the creature he was to slay, his breathing short and coming out his mouth like hisses along-…

The wyverian’s heart stopped for a split second in fear before reason could kick in.

_No?_

It had to be wrong, his sight must be deceiving him. For the hunter to be salivating in such manner… Foam…

He _had _to be mistaken.

_Or was he?_

But the scholar had no time to think about the implications of this; both silhouettes, from monster and hunter, became stiff, and a single red eye turned to his direction moments before the wyverian was able to see it from up close.

He instinctively drew his hunting horn and with no hesitation bashed the instrument into the upcoming silhouette. The wyverian did not let go of his weapon until hearing a thump next to him and watching blood drip down the hunting horn’s handle into a bigger red puddle forming under vermillion locks.

With his heart yet throbbing at his throat, he pondered to himself countless questions, which he had the answer to none except one.

_Had he seen right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wyverians are often more civilized than Ninten, but don't expect him to ever be half civilized in here. 
> 
> ANYHOW!
> 
> Today in Bun’s hunter notes, I present you: NARGACUGA!
> 
> Nargacuga is a cat-bat-thing(?) alike monster. Kinda like Toothless from How to train your dragon, but with more fur. It’s a flying wyvern that makes forests its home, it is known for being one sly predator that will lurk from the trees for the right moment to attack its prey!  
It can use poison and cause the bleeding status in some versions, so I just went “Oh, that’s clearly an hemotoxin”. (Please cope with me, MH allows me to nerd out as much as my heart desires).   
Anyways! That’s it for the hunter notes :D 
> 
> But as smol references to mother, as I said I’d be pointing these out too:  
In Mother 1, Podunk (Ninten’s hometown) has a cemetery plagued with undead (first time I played, it felt never ending but I LOVED IT! So expect more references about it on the future, I honestly love Mother 1, it needs more love). In fact… it has so many undead that they have even leaked to the town itself… Aside that, most people seemed chill about it! 
> 
> I hope y’all safe at home. Please take care, and thanks for reading ♡


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